Make Believe 5: Gifts
by Rose Stetson
Summary: Set five years after "Wife, Mother, Master and Commander", the O'Neills find themselves facing the challenges of raising "gifted" children. Part 5 in the "Make Believe" Series.
1. Nightmares

_The waves crashed against the beaches, causing the hundreds there to run in a panic from the angry storm._

_"This way!" She yelled, trying to lead the group to safety._

_"It's no use!" The Asian man beside her cried over the storm in his native tongue. "They'll never make it!"_

_"We have to try!" She yelled as her long, brown curly hair flipped into her face with the turbulent wind, undisturbed by the fact that she'd just understood the foreign tongue._

_A sudden mass of screams erupted from behind her. She turned to find a large tidal wave rising itself before it crashed on the sands, killing all that stood in its path. "Please…no…" She whispered as she stared at it in horror._

Grace gasped as she awoke, having experienced the icy hand of suffocation for even a fraction of a second too long. She turned on the light and blinked rapidly in an effort to wake herself from the nightmare that had plagued her.

Sitting up, she tossed her legs over the side of the bed and slipped into a pair of warm slippers as she slipped her heavy robe on over her shoulders.

The nightmares were changing, she realized with a small sigh. She wasn't just seeing the world's disasters, she was experiencing them like they were a part of her own past. They weren't her past, she reminded herself. They were someone else's future.

She'd learned after so many nightmares that it was useless for her to try to go back to sleep immediately afterward. They always haunted her dreams until she awoke in the morning, groggy from a night of tossing and turning. If she was lucky, she'd fall into a dreamless sleep somewhere around four, and her mother, retired Brigadier General Samantha Carter, now an applied science professor at the University of Colorado – Colorado Springs and a science consultant with the Stargate Program, would wake her up for school around six.

She padded softly into the kitchen, surprised to find a light on in the dining room.

"Who's there?" She whispered, poking her head around the corner.

Her mother looked up from where she sat at her laptop, her reading glasses dangling from her fingers as she sucked on one end of the plastic frames. "Grace, honey, what are you doing up so early?" She asked, genuinely surprised.

"Couldn't sleep." Grace said with a groan. "What about you?"

"Me either." She said with an ironic smile. "I'm working on some upgrades for the particle beam generator I began modifying a few months ago. So far…I'm at a dead end."

"You'll figure it out, Mom." She said, shrugging as she sat down across from her. "You always do."

Sam offered her daughter a grateful smile as she closed the laptop. Then, with piercing blue eyes, she looked at her thirteen-year-old daughter, carefully studying her. "Another nightmare?"

"Is that anything new?" Grace asked, raising an eyebrow sarcastically.

Sam sighed, sympathetically, as she set her glasses on the table beside her and focused her attention on her growing daughter. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Big tsunami is going to hit the coast of Thailand," she said, fiddling with her mother's pen and cap as she managed to avert her gaze from her mother's all-encompassing eye.

"Tsunami? When?"

"Right about…" She looked at the clock behind her mother's head. "Now."

Sam looked back at the clock before turning back to her daughter with sympathy in her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"That's my life," Grace shrugged before standing. "I'm going to have some juice and then, I'm going to get working on my English paper."

"Is it due today?"

She shook her head. "It's due next Thursday."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "And you're almost finished with it now?"

"I've had plenty of time to work on it," Grace said, matter-of-factly.

"Grace, honey, I'm worried about you," Sam said softly, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "I'm okay."

Sam bit the inside of her cheek. "There's got to be something else you can do. Some other way we can help you."

Grace sighed. "Well, there's not. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go finish my paper, and try to catch a few winks before I leave for school."

"Okay, angel," Sam said, watching her daughter leave the dining room with a small sigh. She turned back to her laptop only to close the top, rest her elbows on the kitchen table, interlocked her hands, and pressed her thumbs against her forehead for a few moments.

This parenting thing wasn't for the weak, she decided as she stood, turned out the light and headed back into her bedroom where she gently nudged her husband, retired Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill, awake.

"Wha?" He demanded as his head shot up from where he'd stuffed it beneath a pillow.

She chuckled in spite of herself. "Must you always have such a dramatic awakening?"

"Yes," he groaned as he closed his eyes and dropped his head back to the pillow. "Now, what'd you want?"

"To discuss your daughter," she said, soberly.

"My daughter?" He asked, turning his head toward her.

"Yes, your daughter," Sam said, nodding. "You would have said so yourself if you'd seen the attitude she just gave me in the dining room."

Jack's brow furrowed before he turned to the bedside clock, then back to his wife and back to the clock.

"Yes, Jack, it's three-thirty."

"Why in the name of all things holy are you awake at this hour?" He asked, absolutely astounded. "Why am I awake at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep." Sam sighed. "Neither could Grace. Apparently, she had another nightmare."

"There's nothing new about that, Sam," Jack said, rolling over and turning on the bedside table lamp with a small sigh as he realized he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon.

"Maybe not, but did you know that she's been working on a paper that's not due until next week?"

"Tell me you didn't do the same thing when you were her age." He said, settling the back of his head against the pillows as he looked at his wife.

"I did," Sam said, nodding soberly. "Only I was fifteen, and my mother had just died. And I got into some pretty big trouble that year."

"What kind of trouble?"

"You're changing the subject," Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sam, she's twelve. What kind of trouble is she going to get into?"

"I don't know," Sam said, shaking her head. "But then again, I don't really want to find out. I don't think she's sleeping enough at night, and I know these nightmares are going to take their toll one of these days."

"And," he prompted, gently. "So…but….therefore?"

"I think we should ask Cassandra for a recommendation of a qualified child psychologist."

"A shrink?" Jack asked, sitting up in bed instantly. "I don't think so."

"What?" Sam asked, looking at her husband, soberly. "Why not?"

"I seem to recall a few bad experiences in our lives corresponding with psychiatric help."

"I said psychologist, Jack. Not psychiatrist."

"So, what's the difference?"

"A psychiatrist has the power to administer drugs and admit people to mental hospitals. Psychologists are just licensed therapists who guide people through the process of coming to term with difficult times in their lives."

"She's not crazy."

"I never said she was." She defended.

"We don't even know if she's ahead because she's not sleeping," Jack pointed out.

Sam sighed as she lay down in bed. "All right, all right. I'll drop it. For now."

"Excellent." He said, rolling over.

She looked over at him for a moment, almost wishing that he could see the worry she had in her heart for their daughter.

"What?" He asked, feeling the weight of her gaze on him.

"I don't pull this card very often, Jack," she said, softly. "But…I really think there's something going on. Or maybe it's not here yet, but…"

"Mother's intuition."

She nodded, slowly.

"Okay, we'll keep an eye on her for the next couple of days, and talk…when the sun's up…or maybe even down, but still…a decent hour, okay?"

She smiled softly as she rolled over and kissed his cheek. "I love you, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." He teased. "Now, go back to sleep. UCCS won't like it if the mother of wormhole physics is sleeping through her classes."

She smiled softly as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She gently touched a finger to his temple, feathering his hair, growing thoughtful and affectionate before she kissed his shoulder and rested her cheek on it.

"What is it?" He asked, looking over at her, noticing her solemnity.

"Every so often," she began, softly. "I just…remember what it was like to be without you, and I just remember how grateful I am to have you in my life."

He reached for her left hand that lay on his chest and pulled it up to his lips so that he could kiss it before he pulled it back to look at the diamond ring that adorned her hand. "Hey, I didn't just give you this ring so that you could wear it for a couple of years," he said, softly. He kissed it gently as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him. "Always isn't an empty promise for me," he said, looking into her eyes.

"I know," she said with a tender smile on her lips and twinkling in her eyes. "And…nine years of marriage is a good start to proving it."

"Not to mention the first ten or so years we knew each other."

"Do you ever miss it?" She asked, softly. "Going out on missions? Saving the world?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, looking up at the ceiling.

"Any regrets?" She asked, looking up at him for a moment.

A small smile grew on his lips before he looked down at the woman he held in his protective embrace. "Never."

He was rewarded with a faint and tender smile on his wife's lips as she inhaled slowly, preparing for sleep. He gently reached over with the other hand and let his fingers entangle themselves in her soft hair. "How could I have regrets when I get to lay like this with you every night?" He whispered, kissing her graying temple, gently.

"Growing old with me," she teased with her eyes closed and an amused smile growing.

"Here's the benefit of being fifteen years your senior," he laughed softly. "I was already old when we got married. Now, I just get to enjoy the view while you catch up."

She flashed that mega-watt smile to him as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I love you, Jack O'Neill." She said, fondly.

"I love you too, Samantha Carter."


	2. Mothers and Daughters

"Did you hear about that tsunami?" Makayla asked, approaching Grace as they walked into their first block class together.

"Yeah." She said, swallowing.

"My mom said the news crews were going crazy. Apparently, there were several rescue workers who were trying to get everyone evacuated, but one of the teams got stuck with the locals."

Grace's stomach churned within her as she felt nausea bubble up. That must have been the persona she'd assumed in her dream. "Did you get the homework done?"

"Oh, yeah." Makayla said, nodding, somewhat surprised at the sudden change of topic. "Number 15 was a little tricky, but otherwise, I thought it was pretty easy."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

Grace looked over at her friend, managing a weak smile. "I just feel a little down in the dumps, I guess."

"Trevor didn't call?"

She swallowed before shaking her head. "No."

"I'm sure he's just nervous. I mean, Winter Wonderland is still a couple of weeks away."

"He'll probably ask Sara Carmichael," Grace said, looking over at the leggy blonde who had blossomed nearly a year before anyone else.

"He can't," Makayla said, shaking her head. "She's going with Henry Littleton."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding. I mean, he lives up to his name," she said, motioning to the young man's height.

"I know, but…apparently, he was the only one that her parents would let her go out with."

"With my luck, my parents wouldn't even let me go out with Henry Littleton." Grace sighed, letting her head fall to the desk.

"So, tell them you're coming to my house, and we'll go to the dance."

"Won't work. Mom and Dad have a sixth sense about these things."

"So, convince them to go out of town. Then, see if you can stay with your brother."

"I'll try to come up with something," Grace promised. "But that probably won't work either. His wife's pregnant, and Mom doesn't like us "imposing" on them."

"If Trevor asks you, you can't just say no," Makayla said, seriously.

"I know!"

"Girls," the teacher said, walking into the classroom with a coffee mug in one hand and a stack of books in the other. "Are you ready for algebra or shall I give you a few more moments?"

"We're ready," Grace swallowed as she scooted down in her seat, embarrassed.

* * *

"Take a break," Sam ordered, compassionately, as she stood and stretched.

"I'm just not sure we'll get this done when the Pentagon wants it done," Dr. Lee fretted as he turned to his long-time colleague. "I mean, it's a miracle you were able to make it at all. Now, to upgrade it?"

"I know," Sam said with an apologetic smile. "But we have to try at least. I'm willing to tell them it can't be done, but we have to at least try."

Bill nodded. "Well, I'm gonna go try to catch a few winks."

Sam sighed as she watched him leave before she stretched her neck gently and walked out of the lab.

"Sam?"

She turned in the direction of the sound of her name, smiling instantly as she saw Cassandra walking toward her. "Hey, I was just on my way to find you."

"Well, I was just on my way to the mess," Cassandra said, hungrily.

Sam grinned. "Well, if there was any doubt that you were carrying an O'Neill baby, that sentence right there should be enough to squelch it."

"Were you ever this hungry with Jacob?" Cassandra asked with one hand underneath her belly to help counter the weight of her unborn child. "I mean, I can't remember a time that I've been this hungry."

"I wasn't at first," Sam admitted. "But after Jack's heart attack, I couldn't get enough of all of the things I didn't want to eat in front of Jack. Steak, French fries…oh, I cannot tell you how many French fries I craved when I was pregnant."

"What did you do?"

Sam's face became instantly sheepish. "Uh…I had Teal'c smuggle them into me. He'd get them when I was on duty or sometimes, when I got desperate, he'd drop them by the house, and take the cartons away with him so that Jack couldn't smell the fries."

"I'm so glad I don't have that problem." Cassandra said, honestly.

"Me too," Sam said, honestly.

"So, what brings you down to the SGC?"

Sam inhaled. "Well, actually, it's a project that the Pentagon asked me to come and oversee."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "They want me to upgrade the particle beam generator that I designed when Jack was stranded on Edora."

"Upgrade?"

She nodded again. "We've really only used the technology a handful of times, but the Pentagon wants to spend its money on upgrading this, so…who am I to argue?"

"What do they expect you to do?"

"Make it go faster." Sam said, facetiously. "I mean, that's so utterly ridiculous that it would be funny if it wasn't being paid for by taxpayer money." She paused in the hallway, her hands prepped and ready for her demonstration. "This device already accelerates particles so that they will in essence become fluid or gaseous so that the event horizon of the wormhole can burst through."

"Right," Cassandra said, following.

"Now, we've already accelerated the particles as fast as they're going to go. The only way we can make the device faster is to spread the effect of the generator more even throughout the desired surface. But if we do that, we run into radiation problems which could put the health of the whole base at risk, so…"

"So, you don't think you can do what the Pentagon wants you to do."

Sam managed an uncomfortable smile. "You said it, not me."

"Darn Pentagon…."

Sam smiled as they continued walking. "You're a little young to be so enthusiastic, aren't you?"

"With SG-1 as my mentors?" Cassandra asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism as they walked into the mess hall.

"That's right, you've been trained by the masters," Sam teased.

"So, is Jacob still liking kindergarten?" Cassandra asked, reaching for a sandwich from the trays.

"Yes, he does," Sam smiled, proudly. "And he loves that Jack is one of the room parents."

"I'm sure he's a great room parent," Cassandra said with a grin.

"Well, I haven't heard any complaints," Sam chuckled. "From Jack, Jacob or the teachers."

Cassandra laughed softly as she reached for a fruit cup.

"I don't know, maybe one of the things that keeps the teacher from complaining is the fact that she's a big fan of the show "MacGyver" from way back when, and…let's face it, Jack looks like…"

"MacGyver." Cassandra said, nodding. "Is this jealous Sam coming out?"

"Never," Sam teased. "I know where my man comes after school lets out."

Cassandra giggled as they walked toward a table.

"How are you and Charlie?"

"We're good," Cassandra said, sitting down. "Charlie's been hovering, so it's nice to come to work…"

"Where everyone thinks it's their responsibility to tell you to get off your feet?" Sam asked with an amused smile.

Cassandra laughed. "It's actually not that bad."

"Glad to hear it," Sam said with a smile.

"Actually, Charlie just got kind of an exciting break with his carpentry."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "He met an interior decorator in a business class they were taking together at the community college. Well, he dropped his portfolio at some point, and she saw some of his designs. She wants to use his furniture from time to time in her projects."

"And she has an established clientele?" Sam asked, curiously.

She nodded. "She actually works in with a design firm, and she was thinking that perhaps they'd want to carry his furniture exclusively."

"Wow." Sam said, surprised. "That's great."

Cassandra nodded again. "It's even better since the firm she's working with actually has offices all over the state of Colorado."

"Fantastic!" Sam said with a grin.

Cassandra nodded, proudly, as she took a bite of her fruit cup.

Sam sighed softly as she thought about her daughter.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"What's what?" Sam asked, shaking the thoughts from her mind.

"The thing that's bothering you."

Sam grimaced. "That obvious, huh?"

"Only because we have this complicated mother-daughter-aunt-niece type relationship," Cassandra teased with a sympathetic smile.

Sam shook her head with small chuckle. "I'm worried about Grace," she said, honestly, the worry carving thin lines around her eyes and mouth that Cassandra had never noticed before.

"What about her?" Cassandra asked, sitting back as she rested her fruit cup on her baby bump before taking another bite.

"You know, I can't even articulate it," Sam said with a small sigh. "It's these nightmares."

"Well, it's not like they're something new." Cassandra said with her brow furrowed.

"I know." Sam said in frustration. "And that's what she and Jack both said, but…there's something different about them lately. Something almost more…personal about them…if that makes any sense…"

"More personal?" Cassandra asked, dubiously.

"I know. It sounds silly," Sam said with a self-deprecating laugh.

"No," Cassandra said, leaning forward and putting a hand on Sam's arm. "You know Grace better than almost any of the rest of us – except maybe Jack. If you think there's something to be worried about, I hope you're wrong, but you should trust your gut."

Sam managed a grateful smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Jack wanted time to sleep on it, so we're just going to wait it out for now…"

Cassandra nodded, slowly. "How can I help?"

Sam sighed softly. "Maybe…you could be on the lookout for a qualified child psychologist?"

"And by qualified," Cassandra began, soberly. "You mean one with the right security clearance…"

"Yeah," she said with a sardonic smile just as she had when she'd answered Daniel's question about the "qualified" parents for the woman now sitting before her.

"I'll look into it," Cassandra promised, sitting up again as she put the empty fruit cup back onto the tray. "Anything else?"

Sam shook her head. "Nope. You've got Charlie covered, and Jacob's just a little ball of energy…which is just fine with Jack." She said with an affectionate smile. "And it's fine with me. He and Jack are playing soccer these days, which keeps him out of trouble."

"Light exercise will keep Jack's heart healthy," Cassandra said, nodding in approval.

Sam chuckled. "Not so light," she grinned. "Jacob's running around the yard with Doc, and I swear they broke the sound barrier once."

Cassandra laughed, softly.

"But Jack swears Jacob keeps him young, so…I'm hopeful."

Cassandra eyed Sam carefully. She had so much on her mind – so much resting on her shoulders. "Have you and Jack taken a weekend alone lately?"

"We went to DC a few months ago."

"On business." Cassandra said, shaking her head. "And you were only gone for about eight hours."

Sam shrugged. "Then, I guess we haven't been on our own like that since before Jacob was born."

"And his sixth birthday is in about four months," Cassandra raising an eyebrow. "I think you and Jack should take a weekend. Charlie and I can watch the kids."

Sam was shaking her head a long time before Cassandra even finished her idea.

"What?"

"I'm not putting two kids in your household only three months before your due date." Sam said, soberly.

"Then send them to Daniel and Vala's."

Sam grimaced at the possibility. "Grace would sulk all weekend because she doesn't like Vala for some reason, and Jacob would terrorize little Nicole."

"So, split them up. Send Grace to us and have Teal'c stay with Jacob."

Sam opened her mouth to protest before she closed it again.

Cassandra grinned. "You can thank me later."

Sam couldn't help but laugh softly. "You get more like your mother every day."

Cassandra's eyes misted over, unexpectedly. She ran a hand over her swollen belly. "I know it's just the hormones," she whispered, softly. "I know that I dealt with this a long time ago, but…"

Sam instantly moved to the chair nearest the doctor's. "Hey, you never get over your mother's death," she said, brushing the hair from Cassandra's face in a maternal token of comfort. "And if there's one person who got a little choked up about her parents' deaths while her hormones were wacky, it was me. I can't tell you how many nights I just cried myself to sleep, and Jack couldn't do anything but hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay."

Cassandra turned a helpless look toward her, and Sam gently guided the woman's cheek to her breast bone, gently running her fingers through the auburn hair she could have inherited from her adopted mother. "It's okay to cry," Sam murmured, gently, as she wrapped her other arm around her body so that Cassandra could get a little more comfortable against her. "It doesn't mean you're not grateful for the life you have – just that you wish they could see how much better everything's going to be. It just means that even though they're gone, they're still a part of you – that you still want them to see what's going on." A small smile flitted on Sam's face. "That you want Janet to see this little one that you're carrying inside you. And that she made parenting look easy. And that you could really use some of that magic touch."

Cassandra couldn't help but chuckle despite her tears.

"But you're not alone." Sam assured. "And when you don't want to listen to Jack and me talk about our parenting strategies, just think about what your mother did. What you need will come when you need it."

Sam felt tears moisten her own eyes as she thought of the many times she'd thought about how her mother would have handled a situation in the years since she'd become a mother herself. "It's your mom's way of reminding you that she's never far away," Sam said with the slightest hitch in her own voice.

"Do you think I can do this?" Cassandra asked, looking up at her vulnerably.

Sam stroked her hair with an affectionate smile as she looked down at the younger woman. "I know you can do it. And someday, you'll realize it too."

"Thanks, Sam," Cassandra said, wiping at her eyes as she finally pulled away.

"My pleasure," Sam said with a grin. "Lunch break over?"

Cassandra nodded. "They always wonder if I take too long a lunch break."

"Bring that husband of yours over for dinner sometime," Sam said, standing. "Anytime you can both pry yourselves away from those busy schedules you keep."

"Yes…with school and two full-time jobs, I sometimes wonder how we managed to see each other long enough to let this happen," Cassandra said, rubbing her belly with a slight grimace.

"This too shall pass," Sam said, sagely. "And it'll go all too quickly."

Cassandra offered Sam a grateful hug. "Thanks for lunch. We'll have to do it again sometime."

"Next time I'm in the Mountain," Sam nodded, affirmatively.

Cassandra smiled before she picked up her tray and walked back toward the corridor.

Sam sighed softly as she looked back at her tray, pushing her fork around the salad that she'd picked up for a few more moments.

"Dr. Carter!"

Sam picked up the tray, calmly returning it to the trash receptacle before she turned to Felger, who'd somehow managed to stay on the SGC staff for the last twelve years. Duty called. "Yes?"

"I think I finally figured it out. If we increase the radiation level by .02%, that should have the desired effect of speeding up the process of liquefying the matter on the other side of the Gate."

"We can certainly try," Sam said with a tired smile as she walked out of the mess hall with the scientist babbling in her ear. It was all she could do not to just break down right there, unable to determine how best to reach her growing daughter.

"Don't you agree?"

"Anything you say, Felger," she said, absently, as she sat down at the lab table.

"Really?" The scientist asked, eagerly. He looked around the room. "Okay…here's what we'll need…"

Sometimes, she, too, wished she could just call her mother up and ask advice.


	3. Grace

"Mommy's home!" The cry came only milliseconds after Sam walked through the door and only a half-second before Sam felt two little arms wrap themselves tightly around her legs.

She couldn't help but smile as she dropped her bags in the entryway and threw her arms around the little blond, returning the hug. "Well, hello there, little man," she said with a small laugh. "How was school today?"

"Uh, we need to talk about that," Jack said, from where he stood in the doorway with a dishtowel in his hands.

Sam raised an eyebrow as she looked up at her husband and then down at her young son, now looking down at his shoes in shame.

"What happened?" Sam asked, picking the five-year-old up and taking him into the kitchen.

"You remember that gift you had when you were expecting him?" Jack asked, looking at his wife.

She nodded.

"It reared its head again."

Sam's eyes widened as she looked at her son.

"I made the ball come to me," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"He was playing with the other kids," Jack said with a rueful smile. "And he wanted the ball, but they weren't giving it to him, so…"

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head. "Jacob," she murmured with a tiny chuckle. "Go play outside with Doc." She said before she kissed the top of his blond head. "I need to talk to your dad, and then, we'll talk more about this thing at school, okay?"

Jacob looked up at his dad who nodded. "Go out and play. See if your sister wants to go out with you, too."

"She won't come," Jacob said with a sigh as he slid off the chair.

Sam watched him walk off with an affectionate, but somewhat sad smile.

Jack walked over and gently kissed her cheek. "I never got a chance to say welcome home," he said, apologetically. "I missed you."

"I was only gone a few hours," she blushed as she looked over at him.

"Yes, but you looked a little sad." He said, honestly. "So, I just wanted to tell you that I missed you, and that I love you."

"I missed you too," she said with a small smile as she gently brushed a hand over his cheek. "And I love you."

"Now, what do you want to talk about?"

"How are we going to handle our little flying circus?" She asked with a tiny chuckle, looking back at the door through which the little boy had disappeared.

"I have no idea," he said with a small chuckle of his own.

"Well, at least he wasn't hurting anyone." She said with a small smile.

"Yes, there's that," he said with a grin.

"We'll have to talk to him about when he can use that gift." She said, more soberly.

"Yep."

Sam nodded. "At least it's just the ability to move things around with his mind," she said with a sigh as she sat down.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jack asked, looking at his wife, worriedly.

"I can't stop worrying about Grace," she said with tears shining in her eyes. "She doesn't do the things she used to like to do, she isn't sleeping very much anymore, and it's like pulling teeth to try to get her to smile about anything these days."

"Hey," Jack murmured, pulling her into a tender embrace. "She's just going through a rough time right now. Being thirteen is hard work."

"Yes, but most kids don't have to see what she sees," Sam said, pulling away. "I know you want to just sit back and let things take their own course, but…I'm afraid to find out where that would lead."

The sound of a door opening and soft footsteps padding toward the kitchen stopped the adults from talking, and only a few moments later, Grace appeared, earphones cradled in her ears as she walked toward the refrigerator. She opened the door, and retrieved the juice before she walked over and picked out a glass which she promptly filled with the amber-colored apple juice.

Only after she'd rested her back against the counter to take a sip, did she realize that her parents were watching her.

"Geez, can't anyone get a cup of juice in this house without being watched like they're a criminal?" She demanded as she turned instantly and went back to her bedroom.

Sam sighed softly. "And that," she began with an acerbic bite to her voice. "Was the talented and delightful Grace O'Neill."

"Sam," Jack said, looking at his wife for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said, closing her eyes and inhaling sharply. "But she's shutting us out, and if we don't do something about it now…" She felt her emotional wall crumble. "My teenage years were really, really hard," she whispered. "And I know what it was like to get through them without the parental support that I should have had, and…maybe it's because of my mom's death that I didn't get that support, but…I'm not going to put my daughter through that. Even if she spends her whole adolescence resenting how hard I'm trying to get beneath her shell."

"C'mere," Jack murmured, gently pulling her closer to him.

"I feel like I'm failing," she admitted as he hugged her tightly. "Like I'm supposed to be able to protect her from this, and….and I can't."

"Sam, Sam, Sam," he murmured as he held her close. "She's growing up, and there are going to be things that we won't be able to protect her from," he said, tenderly. "And as much as it's going to hurt, we just have to love her and teach her how to handle them. I think this is one of those things."

"Yeah," she whispered, grateful that he was willing and able to hold her tightly.

"I've been thinking," he murmured as she finally pulled away from him and started looking in the refrigerator herself. "Why don't we take some time off from this whole parent thing, and take a second honeymoon?"

She paused, turning back to her husband. "Second honeymoon?" She asked, somewhat faintly.

"Hey, our first one was great," he said, honestly. "But I was a little more distracted than I should have been."

"By what?" She asked, surprised.

"By the fact that my lovely bride was shipping out only a few weeks after we married." He said, honestly. "And that she might not come home."

Sam looked down, swallowing down the pain of the memory.

He took a few steps back to her, and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "That was almost ten years ago," he murmured, whispering in such a way that his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin by her ear. "With everything that's going on, we could use the time away."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Cassandra actually suggested that just this afternoon."

"She's a wise woman," Jack said with a grin.

She smiled softly before sobering. "So…who would we leave with the kids?"

"Well, we can ask Teal'c if he's got any leave coming up. He loves staying with the kids, and they love staying with him."

"That was Cassandra's suggestion as well," Sam said with a tiny chuckle.

"You should listen to her more often," Jack laughed.

Sam managed an appreciative smile before sobering. "I just don't know if I want to leave Grace the way she is right now…"

"If we don't give her some space, Sam," Jack said, softly. "We could run into bigger problems. I'm not saying that we should leave her alone forever, but maybe a little space is what she needs."

"Okay," Sam chuckled. "You've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a weekend honeymoon."

"A whole week."

"A week?" She asked, surprised.

"Honeymoon, Sam." He reminded.

"Well, yes, but…"

"You can take the time away from work," he said, knowingly. "And I'm retired. A week isn't a problem."

"I suppose you have a point," she said, offering a mock-sigh.

"So, do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," she said with a grin. "But not until Teal'c has time off."

"Deal," he said, leaning down so that he could kiss her lips.

"Really?" Grace's sarcastic voice interrupted their embrace, and Sam swallowed, pulling away from her husband.

"Grace," she murmured with a small sigh.

"Look, I just wanted to know if there was anything for dinner." She said, sullenly.

"Right," Sam said with a sigh. "Uh…let's figure something out, okay, hon?"

"Just…call me when dinner's ready." Grace said, turning away from her mother.

"Grace O'Neill, you come back here and help me with dinner." Sam ordered, harshly.

Grace sighed. "O…kay…" She sighed.

Sam looked at her husband, who offered her a small smile of support. "Why don't I get the little guy and we'll all make dinner?"

"That would be wonderful," Sam said, gratefully.

He gently kissed her forehead before heading out to the backyard. Sam, however, walked over to where her daughter stood, texting on her cell phone. "Any ideas for dinner?" She asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"How about tofurkey?" The teen said with an acerbic smile.

"Uh…maybe tomorrow." Sam said with an uncomfortable smile. "We don't have it now, and…" She hesitated mentioning Jack's extreme dislike of tofu-versions of meat products. "We just don't have any tofu now. I'll see what I can do about picking some up after work tomorrow."

"Whatever," Grace said, rolling her eyes.

Sam wanted to scream.

"Can we make lemon chicken, Mom?" Jacob cried, running into the house.

"Sounds great," Sam said, eternally grateful for her youngest son's enthusiasm.

"Can I juice the lemons?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Sam said, offering him a kiss as she opened the refrigerator to retrieve the ingredients.

"Hey," Jack said, standing beside his daughter. "Put the phone away, okay?"

"Why?" She asked, dubiously.

"Because your mom wants to do something together as a family, and to be honest, I think it's a good idea." Jack said, seriously.

Grace sighed before she put the phone in her pocket.

"All right, let's go get the chicken ready." Jack said, accepting the package of chicken breasts from his wife.

"Whatever," she sighed.

"Should we have rice or pasta with our chicken?" Sam asked, ignoring her daughter's attitude.

"Oatmeal!" Jacob cried, instantly.

"Oatmeal?" Sam asked, turning to him in surprise.

He nodded, repeatedly. "I like oatmeal."

Sam grinned. "Why don't we keep the oatmeal for tomorrow morning?" She winked.

"Okay." He said, only somewhat disappointed.

"Grace, rice or pasta?" Sam asked, turning back to her daughter.

She won a look of supreme disgust.

"Grace, your mother asked you a question," Jack prodded, somewhat sternly.

"I don't give a damn," she said, nonchalantly.

Sam tensed.

"Grace, you apologize for your attitude right now, young lady," Jack ordered, his face calm, but stern.

"And if I don't?" She asked as if she didn't care. "It's not like you're going to send me to my room. I mean, that's what I want, so that wouldn't exactly be a good punishment. And it's not like you're not going to ground me."

"Oh?" Sam asked, raising her eyebrows instantly.

"Where do I go besides school, Mom?" Grace asked, matter-of-factly.

"You have a point," Jack said, after a moment. "But trust me. I used to train soldiers for a living. I got mighty creative on the discipline front."

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time. "If I have to choose, I choose pasta. At least that isn't hand-picked by migrant workers in Thailand who can barely put food on their table."

"All right, Grace," Sam said, absolutely exhausted by the exchange. "You care so much about the environment and special interest groups? Why don't you sacrifice some of the precious time which you so creatively use for your texting and music-listening to help them, hm?"

"What?" Grace asked, her brow furrowed.

"What do you think, Jack?" Sam asked, looking at her husband. "A little community service?"

"Sounds perfect," Jack admitted. "We'll even let you pick the project. Unless, of course, you don't pick one, in which case we will."

She groaned. "Great."

"And any thought you had of Winter Wonderland," Sam said, soberly. "Went away with that sentence, young lady."

"Can I go now?"

"No," Sam said with a sigh. "We're bonding as a family."

Grace rolled her eyes, though she didn't even utter a sigh, while Sam retrieved the pasta. She took one look at her husband who tried to offer a supportive smile in her direction, though she could he see that he was beginning to be as concerned as she was about the teen's behavior. It was more than just teenage angst, they were starting to realize. There was something wrong with their daughter, and they needed the perspective to handle it.

Please God, let Teal'c have some leave coming up soon, Sam prayed silently.


	4. Fear

"The Asgard High Council has conducted many closely monitored experiments which have indicated that if any individual who possesses the Ancient gene is exposed to naquadah in the blood, their Ancient abilities may be unlocked. This theory was developed in part because of the acceleration of General O'Neill's condition the second time he assimilated the Ancient knowledge into his mind after he blended with a Tok'ra symbiote…"

"Good times," Jack said, interrupting his wife's concentration on Thor's message.

She looked up, somewhat confused by her surroundings as she often did after concentrating so entirely on a single subject before she pulled the communication stone from her hand, ending the transmission.

"What were you doing?" He asked, sitting beside her.

"Wishing that this hologram was actually Thor," she said, rubbing her temples, gently.

Jack reached over and gently touched her knee, affectionately. She sighed softly as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, wanting nothing but a little consolation.

"Maybe you were right about Grace needing a therapist," he said after a few moments.

She managed a grateful smile. "I already asked Cassandra to look into that for us." She exhaled, slowly. "It can't hurt to have the information, right?"

He nodded in agreement.

"That's not exactly what I was thinking about though," she said after a moment.

"You were worrying about Jacob." He said, instantly understanding.

"Grace's gift was so much more discreet," she said, softly. "And Jacob…"

"He can be somewhat reckless," Jack agreed. "I'm just glad I happened to be outside today."

She shuddered almost involuntarily as she thought of how many people would want to pluck her innocent, blond-haired baby boy from the safety of his home or school so that they could study his abilities, or worse, dissect him the way Adrian Conrad's team had nearly dissected her. "I know I was chuckling earlier about his innocent use of his gift, but…"

"I know," he interrupted, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Believe me, I know."

"What are we going to do, Jack?" She whispered, softly. "Take him out of school until he has a better handle on his powers? Keep him within sight distance of an armed guard?"

Jack squeezed her shoulders, gently. "None of that is necessary...yet. I'm still volunteering at his school everyday, and I already put the fear of God in him. He's not going to do anything stupid at school."

She managed a thin, but grateful smile. "And we'll keep thinking," she said, nodding. "In case we think of something else."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured, kissing his wife's temple. "Now, let's try to get some sleep, shall we? I don't know about you, but I think running after the fireball with telekinesis is going to be a little more challenging than it was today."

She chuckled softly. "And heaven forbid we should encounter our teenaged daughter..."

"Oh, brother..."

* * *

_"Jared," she giggled as she walked down the corridor of the abandoned warehouse. "Where are you?"_

_There was no answer, and she shook her head. "Jared, you're going to get us into trouble. Come on…where are you?"_

_There was still only eerie silence, and she stepped lightly down the corridor, starting to feel her heart pound in fear. "Jared, this isn't funny anymore. Someone's going to come…we shouldn't be here. I want to go ho…"_

_Her foot hit something soft, and she bent down in the darkness to look at the object she'd just bumped into. She reached down to steady herself, gasping as she touched a warm, sticky substance. With shaking fingers, she brought her fingers up to her nose which instantly recognized the metallic smell of blood. "J-Jared, th-this isn't funny," she whispered, her voice shaking as she turned back to the soft figure over which she'd stumbled. She peered down at it, gasping instantly as she recognized the face of her boyfriend, frozen in the ice of death._

_Her body shuddered, involuntarily, as her breathing grew shallow in fear._

_"I don't want those kids until there's total media coverage on that family." A male voice whispered harshly. "I don't want them to be able to sit, stand, eat, drink, or sleep without some reporter in their faces taking a snapshot of it all."_

_She scooted back, almost unconsciously trying to get away from the men who were plotting some sort of kidnapping. The same men who had probably killed Jared._

_"But…"_

_"You don't understand. If they can't get past the reporters, they can't find their kids. If they can't find their kids, we can do anything we wa…"_

_She heard a loud clanging of metal as she accidentally overturned some equipment. She winced as the conversation stopped between the two men. "The boy wasn't alone. Find whoever was with him."_

_She turned, more concerned with speed than with stealth at this point, but she found herself face-to-face with an angry looking man._

_"Please," she begged. "I didn't hear anything. I swear, I won't tell a soul."_

_"Well, well, well," another man said, approaching her. "If I'd have known we'd have guests, I would have spruced the place up a bit."_

_She trembled as she looked fearfully into the eyes of the men who undoubtedly held her future in their hands. "Please, I was just looking for my boyfriend…we didn't mean any harm, honest."_

_"I'm sure you didn't," the second man said, amiably. "But I still don't take kindly to people who ruin my surprises."_

_"I swear to God I won't tell a soul," she swore, still terrified. "Just…just let me go."_

_"I know you won't tell anyone." The second man said, turning to the first._

_Within a moment, a gun was pointed in her face. "No," she screamed. "No, plea…"_

As the sound of the gunshot in her vision rang out, Grace sat up, fully alert, still trembling and frigid in fear. She clutched at the blankets in her bed, pulling them up to her chin as her eyes darted around the room. Each shadow, each howl of the wind outside made her increasingly more fearful that someone was truly lying in wait to do to her what he had done to the young woman in her dream.

With shaking hands, she reached over to turn on her bedside lamp. The light that instantly flooded her corner of the room only erased a portion of her fear, and she found herself loathe to return to her nightly ritual of retrieving her terrycloth robe and slippers before slipping into the kitchen. Still, if she managed to do that, she would be safer – in a communal living space with the possibility of having Doc snuggle with her like he used to do when she was younger.

With a cleansing breath to calm her nerves, Grace reached for the robe, gingerly touching the ground before she slipped into her fluffy slippers. Warmth and peace wrapped around her like a security blanket as she stepped toward the door, causing a familiar, yet unexpected, creak in the floorboards. Instantly, she ran toward the door, opening it and slamming the door as adrenaline pumped through her body with the life-giving blood she could feel beating more and more quickly through her heart.

The house was deathly still, as it usually was at two-o-clock in the morning, but now, it seemed much more macabre than she remembered. "Mom?" She whispered, timidly, looking toward her parents' room. "Dad?"

There was no answer. She turned toward her younger brother's room. "Jacob?"

Still nothing.

"Doc?" She whispered, tears welled up in her eyes and a lump of emotion in her throat.

She crept down the stairs, and into the large rec room that their home housed in the basement. She tiptoed toward the glass doors that led to the backyard, where Doc was undoubtedly spending the night as an "outdoor dog".

She'd get into trouble for this, Grace knew, but she couldn't just stay awake for the rest of the night, comfortless. She opened the glass doors, eliciting a bark from her canine friend.

"Sh," she whispered, harshly. "Doc, come inside," she commanded, waving to him.

The old dog eyed her for a moment before he walked cautiously into the house. She closed the door to the outside, returning the bar that locked the door to its place.

"Come on," she whispered, motioning up the stairs. "In my room."

The dog looked at the stairs and then back at her.

"Come on," she whispered more harshly as she pointed less patiently.

Instantly, the dog began his trek up the stairs.

The sudden blare of sirens coming from the home security system had Grace on the floor, instantly, her heart pounding as she waited for bullets to come whizzing through the house at any moment.

"OH FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD!" Her father yelled as her parents' door and probably even her brother's door opened at the sound of the siren. "DOC! How the HELL did you get in here?"

Grace quickly dashed into the guest room, closed the door and sat on the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees as tears streamed down her cheeks in absolute terror. She rocked slowly back and forth as her father's footsteps reminded her of those awful footsteps she'd heard in the warehouse.

"Damn dog," her dad muttered as he passed the room she was hiding in and headed back up the stairs.

Once she was certain that he was out of hearing, she felt the fear come out in choking sobs that refused to be silenced and left her with little comfort.


	5. Good Morning

Sam walked out of the master bedroom, somewhat more wearily than usual given the interruption from the security alarm the night before. It had taken Jack only a few minutes to disarm the alarm, but then, they had gone through and around the house to secure all of the external entry points. Thankfully, neither of the kids seemed to have been startled awake by alarm, and there had been no evidence of a break-in.

She sighed softly. The mystery was how Doc had managed to get in through the glass door, locking it behind him.

Unwilling to wake either of the children, Sam had merely listened at the door, opening it for a moment to take a quick look around the room. With the way Jacob's room was configured, it was not hard to see the five-year-old resting peacefully in his bed. Grace's room, however, hadn't been quite as definitive, with her full-size bed in the corner of the room that was parallel to where Sam stood at the door.

Still, Grace had not been found in any of the other rooms of the house, and so, Sam simply rationalized away the nagging feeling in her gut that something was wrong, recognizing how hyper-sensitive she was about her children's safety.

Sam padded softly into the kitchen, filling the coffee pot with water. She stretched her neck slowly before she poured the liquid into the back of the pot.

"I'll finish the coffee and start breakfast," Jack said, coming up behind her.

"Don't want my coffee?" She asked with a teasing smile.

"Not really," he teased back. "I think I could use something a little stronger than you'd make."

She laughed softly before she kissed his cheek, tenderly. "I'll wake the kids."

She walked over and quickly knocked on her daughter's door, careful not to do so too loudly. "Grace, honey," she called, pleasantly, through the door. "It's time to wake up."

"I'm up," Grace said, walking out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in a robe.

Sam looked up in surprise. It had always been a long and arduous process to wake her daughter in the morning. "Did the alarm wake you up this morning?" She asked, thinking that would have affected her daughter's morning routine.

"What alarm?" Grace asked, her heart pounding somewhat as she feigned ignorance.

"Oh," Sam said, shaking her head. "Never mind." If she had to ask, she clearly hadn't awoken. "Hurry up and finish getting ready. Your dad's going to have breakfast ready in no time."

"Okay," she said, humbly. Before Sam could respond to her daughter's sudden change, Grace wrapped her arms around her mother, hugging her tightly. "Thank you."

"For what?" Sam managed, astounded.

"For waking me up every morning, for taking me to school," she tightened her hold on the older woman. "For adopting me and taking care of me."

"You're welcome," Sam managed, looking over at her husband who was just staring at the sight in his own surprise. "What brought this on?"

"I read something in the news this morning," Grace admitted, still clinging to her mother like she was a little girl again. "It was all over the internet. This girl was missing, and I realized that you and Dad would never let anything bad like that happen to me."

"Never." Sam assured, tightening her own hold on the young woman. "I love you, angel."

"I love you too, Mom."

It was still a few moments before Grace pulled away from her mother.

"Grace, are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked, studying her daughter closely. The light of innocence had been snuffed out of her eyes little by little, and now, it was almost impossible to see the little girl that she and Jack had adopted eight years before. But it was more than that. Grace looked pale, like she was ill, and Sam didn't want her taking any chances with how little she'd been sleeping. "Why don't you stay home today, hm?" She murmured, rubbing her daughter's arm, gently. "You don't look like you're feeling well."

"Mom, I'm okay," Grace said with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes – the kind of smile Sam hadn't seen until after her mother had died, and then, only from adults or children who had grown up too quickly. "I'm a big girl, remember?"

"Sometimes it just seems like it's going a little too fast," Sam admitted, quietly. She kissed her daughter's forehead before she headed down the hallway toward little Jacob's room.

"Hey, Mom?" Grace asked, causing her mother to turn back.

"Hm?"

"Do you remember when I was younger? You'd pick me up from school, and we'd come home, just us girls, and paint our nails, have snacks and watch movies?"

Sam nodded with a small smile at the memory. "Our girl dates," she said, affectionately.

"Can we have one of those?" Grace asked, looking as vulnerable as she had at five years old, sitting in a circle in the library as they read _Franklin and the Thunderstorm_.

"Of course we can," Sam said, nodding. "I'll even kick your dad and brother out of the house."

"Thanks, Mom," Grace said with a tiny smile before she disappeared into her room again.

"I don't know what you did, Mrs. O'Neill," Jack said, walking toward her from the kitchen. "But I want your secret."

She managed a smile that mirrored her daughter's, without any light in her eyes. "I'd tell you if I knew," she murmured before she knocked on Jacob's door. "Jacob, honey, time to wake up," she said with a little less enthusiasm than before.

* * *

"So then, Lucy hits her boyfriend because he kissed her twin sister, who's like…the worst person on the face of the planet because actually, she could have stopped him from kissing her, but she didn't…and then, their mom, who's a spy, accidentally (but not really accidentally) shoots her ex-husband, the double-agent who cheated on her while she was missing for six weeks in Nigeria…" Makayla paused after a moment. "Are you even listening?"

"Huh?" Grace asked, suddenly realizing that her friend had been babbling on and on since they'd gotten to school about some melodramatic, hard-to-follow plotline.

"You are so lucky I'm actually your friend," the other girl said, shaking her head. "You didn't hear a word of what I just said?"

"Something about Lucy shooting her ex-boyfriend because he cheated on her while she was missing?" Grace attempted, limply. "Your mother's soap opera?"

"Close enough," Makayla said, nodding. "And no, it's not my mother's soap opera, it's last night's episode of _My Mother: The Spy_. I love that show!"

"Oh," Grace said, stopping by her locker as she pulled out her math textbook.

"Girl, you are distracted," Makayla said with a sigh. "Okay, tell me what Trevor said."

"Trevor?" Grace asked, her brow furrowing. "Nothing…why?"

"Because only one thing in the world makes it so that you don't make fun of my obsession with _My Mother: The Spy_, and that's either a Trevor-anecdote or a Trevor-sighting. And I don't see him anywhere."

"It's neither," Grace said, shaking her head. "I'm just…tired, I guess."

"So, go to the nurse and say it's PMS." Makayla said, soberly. "They'll call your mom, and you'll get sent home. Piece of cake."

"Are you kidding?" Grace asked, disgusted.

"Nope. My older sister tried it two years ago, and she said it worked like a charm."

"I am not going to the nurse." Grace said, shaking her head. "I'm not sick. I'll be just fine once I get into math class, and start the day."

"Suit yourself," Makayla said in a sing-song voice as they walked into class together.

A sudden shove from someone still in the corridor caused Grace to lose her balance, and drop all of the books that had been in her hand.

"Man, I'm so sorry," a familiar voice breathed, apologetically, as he bent down to help her pick up her books. She turned to the young man with chestnut-colored hair that was smoothly brushed to the side who was wearing a school football jersey. He flashed a winning smile with those perfectly straight, white teeth of his, and she felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach as she looked into his soulful, brown eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Trevor," she murmured, softly.

"Yeah, that jerk Matt bumped into me, and I bumped into you," he said, glaring at the other boy in the football jersey, who was trying not to laugh.

She shrugged. "You didn't see me. It's okay."

Within moments, they'd picked up the papers and books which had been spilled in the entryway, and Trevor handed her the few items he'd collected for her. "Uh, Grace?"

"Yeah?" She asked, not looking up at him as she reorganized the items in her hands.

"You know, I was hoping that maybe you'd consider coming with me to…you know…Winter Wonderland?"

She looked up, suddenly. The memory of her fight with her parents the night before which had resulted in the loss of any hope that she could ever attend any dance for the rest of time surfaced, and she couldn't help but look over at Makayla who was silently cheering her on.

"I'd love to go," she finally said, assertively. "But I'll have to meet you here. Is that okay?"

"Sure." Trevor said, nodding. "It's a date then."

She couldn't help but smile. "Yeah…it's a date."

The young man ducked in to kiss her, completely surprising Grace with the gesture.

"Ahem." The couple turned, embarrassed, to find the math teacher standing behind them, attempting to enter her own classroom. "I assume you have some place to be, Mr. Knight."

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled before ducking out of the classroom. He hesitated for a moment, shooting one last disarming smile to Grace, who smiled herself, before he hurried down the corridor to his own classroom.

"Now, Miss O'Neill," the teacher said, expectantly. "Your seat, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace murmured, unable to withhold a tiny smile from her lips as she quickly made it to her seat.


	6. Security

"Good morning, Dr. Carter."

The greeting made Sam smile as she walked into the university lab to find her TA working diligently on setting up the experiment for Sam's first physics class. "Good morning, Tunisia. How was your evening?"

"Fine," she said with a smile. "I finished my term paper for the upper-division astrophysics class I've been taking, and turned in this morning."

"And so you came early to help me," Sam said with a wry smile.

She shrugged. "I like working in the lab. Helps me clear my head."

Sam chuckled softly. "Oh, you are a grad student, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?" Tunisia asked with a smile.

"I felt the same way in grad school…and then, I started sleeping in the lab and pulling an all-nighter when I was in the Air Force, and I met my husband and I realized there were bigger and better things that I could do than sleep in the lab."

Tunisia laughed softly. "I guess that only happens if you're not dating a botany geek who feels the same way about plants that you feel about space."

Sam chuckled. "I suppose so. My kids lucked out – I married a man who knows more about the English language than I do and we have a close friend who's an archaeologist, so I guess they'll get well-rounded homework help."

Tunisia smiled. "The world had better run and hide if Barry and I have kids. They'd be such nerds with the plants and stars everywhere around them."

"Well, at least, you'd be able to help them with their math," Sam winked as the phone rang. "Carter," she answered, reaching for the receiver.

"Samantha," Sam tensed instantly.

"Hello, Sara." She said, swallowing. It had been almost seven years since Sara had become part of Jack's life again, and it still wasn't entirely comfortable. "What can I do for you?"

"I got an invitation to Cassandra's baby shower, and I'm RSVP-ing."

"Wonderful. You'll be able to come, then?" Sam asked, reaching for a piece of paper.

"Yes, I can."

"I've got you down."

"Would you like me to bring anything?"

"I'm not really the one in charge of the festivities," Sam said, managing a nervous chuckle. "Vala's got most of that under control."

She could almost see the disapproval on her husband's ex's face.

"But I'll let her know that you're interested in helping." She said, managing an uncomfortable smile. "I guess we'll see you at the party."

"Before I let you go," Sara interrupted. "I'm a little bit concerned…"

Sam couldn't help but sigh, softly. "Oh?" She asked, managing an interested tone.

"Yes. Cassandra seems awfully tired these days. Perhaps you and I could convince her to cut her hours back. I know how hard it is to be a doctor…I mean, Tim comes home exhausted when he's been on duty, and I can only imagine that it would be that much worse for Cassandra in her condition."

Sam swallowed down her irritation. "I think she enjoys the break from Charlie."

Sam grimaced, realizing that her words had come out worse than she'd intended. "I – I just mean that he seems to be kind of overprotective."

"Overprotective? My boy overprotective?"

"Look, I didn't mean for it to come out like…" Sam began slowly. "I'll talk to her when I get home from work."

"I don't want to interfere in their marital problems."

"Marital problems?" Sam asked, incredulously. "They're not having problems…"

"I don't feel comfortable talking about their problems with you, Samantha. I think they should talk to each other instead of either of us."

Sam groaned internally. "Yes, Sara," she sighed. "I'll keep that in mind."

The students were filing into the room for her physics lab, and Sam realized that she'd never been more grateful to see them before. "Sara, I've got to go. My students are coming."

"Yes, well, I'll see you at Cassandra's baby shower, if not before."

Please not before, Sam prayed. "Good-bye, Sara."

She hung up the phone, feeling somewhat weary by the whole conversation. She turned a winning smile to her students. "Good morning. Everyone get with your lab partners, and turn in your lab texts to page 45."

* * *

"O'Neill," Jack greeted, having just put his youngest son down for a nap after his morning kindergarten class.

"Jack, it's me."

"Sam!" He said with an instant grin. "How's college?"

She smiled softly. "It's fine."

"Excellent. Call to tell me you miss me?"

"I always miss you," She said with a small chuckle. "But that's not it."

"Darn…"

"Grace wants to have a girl date, and I told her I'd ask you and Jacob to leave the house so it was just us girls."

"Hey, no problem. I'll take him to the park and maybe to a movie."

"Thanks." She said with a smile that was somewhat preoccupied by her conversation with Sara.

"What is it?"

Sam swallowed, knowing that she couldn't hide anything from her husband. "Sara called."

"You?" He asked, surprised.

"At work," she affirmed. "She was calling to RSVP for Cassandra's baby shower."

"Oh," Jack said, quietly. "Well, that's good."

"Yeah." Sam said with a sigh.

"What happened?"

"You mean, besides her not-so-subtle suggestion that Cassandra slow down at work?"

"Prudent suggestion," Jack said after a moment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, instantly defensive.

"What? I just mean, Cassandra tends to be a workaholic. Like you."

"And that's a bad thing?" She asked, her voice tinted with anger.

"What the hell happened on that phone call?" Jack demanded, instantly.

Sam sighed heavily. "I'll be home in a couple of hours."

"Sam," Jack said, softly.

"She doesn't like me, Jack," Sam said after a moment. "Cassandra and Charlie are about to have a baby, and she can't seem to stop criticizing me."

"A little selfish, don't you think?" Jack asked, sardonically.

"If it was just me," Sam said after a moment. "That would be one thing. But it's all of the ways that Cassandra is like me. She's too polite to say anything to Cassandra. Because if she did, she'd lose Charlie all over again, and…." She blinked away tears. "So, she says it to me. And it wasn't too bad when I just saw her at the wedding, but now, we're going to have to see them all the time. Birthday parties, anniversaries, damn baby showers…"

"Sam," he murmured, apologetically.

"I'll be okay." She said, wiping at her eyes. "I'll be home a little early today. I want to be home when Grace returns home from school."

"I'll see what I can do about Sara, okay?"

"Don't bother, Jack," she said with a small sigh. "I'm not even sure she knows she's doing it."

"Yeah, but she and I aren't married anymore. I'm married to you. And if I can't slay at least some of your dragons…"

The image of the dragon she and SG-1 had fought all those years before brought an unbidden smile to her lips.

"…I'm not much of a husband."

"Jack…"

"I love you, Sam."

"I love you too," she said with a tender smile.

"And I will take care of Sara."

"I know you will." She said, nodding. "Even though it's not necessary."

"Okay, I'm hearing noise from the little whirlwind's bedroom, so I should probably go."

"Give him a kiss for me," Sam said with a tender smile as she thought of her youngest.

"Will do. Bye."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone, feeling the stress of the day instantly melt away from her shoulders. Until she thought about how her evening with her daughter would actually turn out.

She sighed softly before she rubbed her neck, trying to relieve the tension there. Maybe watching a movie that would remind Grace of her childhood would help to soften her. Which movie, on the other hand…

"Enchanted," she finally said aloud.

"Dr. Carter?"

Sam turned to find Tunisia looking at her, somewhat confused by the statement.

"The movie I'm going to watch with my daughter tonight," Sam explained.

"Ah." Tunisia said with a smile. "Well, I'm headed out. Do you need anything?"

Sam shook her head. "Enjoy your weekend."

"Thanks. I will." She said with a grin and a spring in her step as she walked out the door.

Sam watched her go, wondering for a moment if Grace would ever be able to be as lighthearted as the grad student who had just left her office. She sat down with a heavy sigh. She looked at the legal size notepad on the corner of the desk. She pulled it toward her, and without a thought, began writing a letter to the very daughter who had her so terribly concerned.

* * *

"So, you'll tell your parents that you're coming to my house, right?"

Grace turned to her friend as they walked out of the building. "Uh…yeah. Sure."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Come on," Makayla said, enviously. "Trevor kissed you. For everyone to see."

Grace managed a small smile. "Yeah." He did, didn't he?"

They walked out of the building, and instantly recognized Grace's mother's car as one of the first in the line of parents who had come to pick up their children.

Grace sighed softly, a pang of guilt searing instantly through her body. Her mother had forbidden that she attend Winter Wonderland, and she'd accepted a date to go with Trevor. Boy, was she in trouble. To break the date with Trevor would undoubtedly ruin her chances of ever getting another kiss from his lips. And to disobey her mother…

Her father wasn't joking about training soldiers and getting creative. He would tolerate a lot, but disobeying or disrespecting her mother would never be acceptable.

"Well, I'll see you Monday." Makayla said, turning to her friend and offering her a quick good-bye hug.

"Bye, Makayla." Grace said with a weak smile.

Grace turned back to face her mother's car. She took a deep breath, and then, quickly walked toward the car.

* * *

Sam tapped the steering wheel nervously. She'd been here for at least half-an-hour, and debated whether or not to pick Grace up early. She had decided against it, recognizing that though Grace was crying out in her own way for the far-less complicated days of her childhood, she would not look favorably on spending more time than was required with her mother.

I feel like I'm on a tightrope, Sam thought to herself as cars lined up behind her. And every step I take throws me off one side or the other.

Suddenly, Grace's face appeared in the window of the passenger door. "Hi, Mom," she said, opening the door.

"Hi, honey," Sam said, brightening instantly. She didn't want to give Grace any thought that this mother-daughter afternoon was unwanted or unneeded – she wanted and needed it desperately. "How was school?"

Grace slipped into the front seat of the SUV, dropping her heavy backpack at her feet. "Fine," she said, emotionlessly.

"How was math class?" Sam asked, knowing that numbers were the most difficult for the young woman to comprehend. She was like Jack in that respect.

"Get off my back, okay?" Grace snapped. "I said school was fine."

Sam sighed softly before turning her attention to her driving. She pulled out of the line that she'd been in, and headed toward the school parking lot exit. "Did something happen in math class? Did Mrs. Huffman bother you about something?"

Grace sighed, soundlessly. "Mom, I told you. Math class was fine."

"What about the rest of your classes?" Sam prodded, gently, as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

"They were fine too."

"Is it still that girl?" Sam asked, letting her eyes drift from the road for just a moment.

* * *

The image of the shot gun in her face instantly appeared in Grace's mind at her mother's words. "Y-yeah," she managed, her voice shaky.

"Honey, your dad and I would never let anything happen to you," Sam promised.

You're not with me all the time! She wanted to scream. You can't protect me all the time!

Instead, she just nodded. "I know. But this girl…" Her voice trailed off. "I'm sure it was just a freak accident."

* * *

They lapsed into silence, and Sam hoped that her reassurances that she and Jack would protect their children hadn't sounded hollow. True, she was afraid for her children, but she also knew that if they had any chance of escaping their childhood unscathed by the horrors she'd seen in her lifetime, it was with the O'Neills who had literally fought off the evil that they feared would find their children.

"I thought we could watch _Enchanted _tonight for our little party."

A small smile formed on Grace's lips. "I like that movie."

"I know."

* * *

Grace looked at her mother. Each wrinkle and line she'd gotten on her face seemed so much more exaggerated these days, like there was something worrying her constantly.

You don't have to try so hard, Mom, Grace thought to herself. I know you love me. Even if I want to admit it. I know you and Dad will keep me safe. I know you'd…

She stopped her train of thought right there. She'd already lost one set of parents, and she didn't want to think of losing another. Certainly not if it was to protect her.

She thought back to her dilemma about Winter Wonderland. She sighed softly. With a betrayal like that in her mind – a plan to disobey her parents' direct instructions not to attend Winter Wonderland – she probably didn't deserve whatever self-sacrificing her parents would do to save her life should the opportunity present itself. And Jacob, sweet and innocent little Jacob who would also suffer the effects of that self-sacrifice, could never deserve to have that thrust upon his strong, but tiny shoulders.

For her younger brother, she couldn't afford to be stupid like that girl in her vision. Surely, she had been in a place where her parents or the police had warned her not to be, and she had been killed for it. To do the same thing – even for just a school dance – seemed like a horrible dismissal of the vision which had kept her up the night before.

Suddenly, Grace knew what she had to do.


	7. Torture

"How was it?" Jack asked as he walked into the bedroom after putting Jacob in his bed.

"I'm not sure," Sam said with a small sigh.

"You're not sure?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.

She shrugged. "It was a…nice afternoon."

"But?"

"She was different this afternoon. Closed off. Like she didn't want me to know something."

"She's a teenager," Jack said, shrugging. "Don't you remember when Cassandra was her age?"

"Cassandra was just getting used to Earth culture when she was Grace's age," Sam said with a small sigh. "She didn't do the "teenager" thing until she was fourteen."

"And then, we made a pact with the devil-incarnate to save her life," Jack sighed, "Which, as we should have seen coming, came and bit us in the butt not even a year later."

Sam managed a supportive smile, knowing that he was talking about the time when SG-1 and one of the few Russian teams that had been assigned to the SGC had been captured by Nirrti as they tried to save the people whom she'd deformed in her quest to create a perfect host. "We all agreed with your decision, Jack," she said softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"We're just lucky that she didn't kill you too," he murmured as he ran a hand over her cheek, affectionately.

"You always took care of me, Jack," she whispered. "And even if Woden and his brother hadn't stepped in, you would have figured something out."

"Something stupid," Jack said with a self-deprecating sigh.

"Maybe something short-sighted," she admitted. "But never stupid. We are very young after all."

He smiled softly at the memory of the Nox before nodding. "Yeah, I guess that's what I mean. We're just…very young."

"We're learning," she said with a small, supportive smile.

He kissed her forehead and hugged her to him, suddenly grateful once again for all of the things he had in his life that he never thought he'd get again – A wife, children, Charlie, and all of the joy that came from watching over and protecting his family.

"I just wish they could help us with our daughter," Sam said after a moment, heaving a small sigh. "Maybe they'd have some words of wisdom."

"Or," Jack said after a moment. "They'd tell us to be patient."

"You think I'm being impatient?" She asked, looking up at him. There was no accusation in her tone, and he shrugged. "Honestly, I'm as baffled as you are. But I know that when I was a teenager, there were a few things that my parents had to just wait for me to be ready to tell them."

She nodded, slowly.

"Don't give up," he clarified. "Just…be patient. Let her tell us what's going on in her own time."

"Unless she's about to self-destruct, right?"

"Right." Jack said, nodding. "In which case, I'll be right there with you trying to figure out just what's making her tick."

She smiled softly.

* * *

_"Grace! Someone's here to see you!"_

_Grace walked out of her room, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt when she saw the suit-clad Trevor, who held a singular red rose in his hands._

_"Friend of yours?" Her mother asked, raising an eyebrow._

_"Trevor," Grace managed with an embarrassed smile._

_"You're not going to dress for the occasion?" He asked with an amused smile._

_She swallowed, looking at her clothes. "Uh…Trevor…" She noticed her mother standing there, expectantly. "Mom, can you give us a little space?"_

_Sam nodded before walking out of the entryway._

_"Trevor, I…I got grounded. I can't go with you."_

_"You got grounded…" He said, the charming smile falling from his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

_"I meant to," she admitted, sheepishly._

_"I thought you were different than the other girls." He sighed, dropping the rose from his hand._

_"Trevor…" She began, softly._

_"Look, just…leave me alone." He said, walking out of the front door. _

_Grace ran after him, appearing suddenly in the corridor that she'd seen in her vision. "Trevor!" She called. "Trevor, where are you?"_

_She stumbled over a lump, and she looked back to find Trevor lying face-down on the floor._

_"Trevor," she murmured, tears of fear running down her cheeks as she turned his body over. "Be okay," she whispered. "Please be okay."_

_"Hello there," came a voice from above her._

_She looked up to find the face of the man who had shot the other girl. "Please…" She begged._

"NO PLEASE!" She cried, desperately, with real tears streaming down her cheeks as her body shook in terror and she curled to protect herself from the impending gunshot.

* * *

The scream instantly awoke the two seasoned Air Force officers, despite the fact that they'd both been retired for at least five years.

"Who was that?" Sam asked, turning to her husband, worriedly.

"Sounded like Grace," he said, hopping out of bed.

Instantly, they ran toward the young woman's room, hearing sobs as they drew closer.

Jack opened the bedroom door, and Sam headed instantly to her daughter's bed. "Grace, honey," she murmured, soothingly.

"Please," she begged, fearfully. She clutched her sheets in tight fists as she pleaded some unseen foe with tears streaming down her cheeks and impassioned sobs breaking forth from the depth of her soul. "Please don't do this…"

"Grace!" Sam called, more firmly, as she shook her daughter slightly.

Grace's eyes opened instantly. "Mom…" She managed, instantly recognizing the woman in front of her.

"What were you dreaming about?" Sam asked, smoothing Grace's hair against her head as she kissed the young woman's forehead, comfortingly.

"I…I…" She stammered, her body tense and shaking with the trauma of the nightmare.

Jack turned his attention back to his daughter. "Was it one of your visions?"

She shook her head. "No…no…God, I hope it's not a vision…"

Recognizing that Grace was open to a maternal embrace, Sam wrapped her arms around her daughter, and rocked her back and forth like she had done for Grace's initial visions in the O'Neill home. She softly kissed the young woman's temples and hair. "Are you feeling better now, angel?"

She nodded after a moment. "A little bit."

"Do you want some tea? I'll bet your dad would make us some tea…"

Grace shook her head.

"Think maybe you can get some sleep?"

Grace tensed, as if the idea of sleeping was not a welcome one, but finally she nodded. "I can try."

"All right. If you need us, we'll be right here, okay?"

She nodded, forcing a brave smile.

"What happened in your dream?" Jack asked, looking at his daughter.

She looked up, the smile falling from her face. "S-someone shot and killed a boy at school." She said with a trembling lip. "A-and then, th-they were going to shoot me."

"You're sure this was just a nightmare?" Sam asked after sharing a worried look with her husband.

She nodded. "H-he walked out our front door and into th-this warehouse. That's where they shot him. That's where he was killed."

"What warehouse, angel?" Sam pressed, gently.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Grace cried, becoming agitated again. "Don't you think if I knew, I would tell you? LEAVE ME ALONE!"

She threw a pillow at her mother, who ducked instantly, before she threw her back onto the bed in a fit of hysteria.

"Grace," Sam whispered, gently.

"Just…leave me alone," Grace sobbed, clutching her sheets in her fists and raising them to her face in an effort stifle the noises coming from her lips.

Sam looked at her husband with tears in her eyes before she turned and looked back at her daughter. "Sleep well, angel," she managed, her voice quivering with emotion.

In a moment, they were out of the room, and Sam fell against her husband's chest into sobs of her own.

* * *

_"Donuts!"_

_She looked at the other NID agent with a small chuckle. "Could you make this stakeout any more cliché?"_

_"Hey, I like donuts, and last I heard, you do too."_

_"Well, yes, I do." She admitted. "But that doesn't make it any less cliché."_

_"Perhaps. What've we got?"_

_"Surveillance – on Senator Hamilton."_

_"Hamilton? Why?"_

_"Didn't you read the brief? He's under suspicion of corruption."_

_"Oh, right. Something about "The Trust". Or whatever that is."_

_"All I know is that Barrett put this on top-priority."_

_"Well, let's get to it."_

_She put the headphones over her ears._

_"…they're making the announcement in a few weeks, and when they do, all eyes are going to be on them. Now, the plan is to wait to take the kids until the family is totally covered by th…"_

_"Do you hear that?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"The buzzing…"_

_"Buzzing? Someone's probably just watching TV in the other room."_

_"You're sure no one knows we're going after the O…"_

_"Shut up, you idiot! If we have been bugged, you'll give them everything!"_

_"What are they talking about?" The agent asked, turning to his partner. "What announcement? Whose kids? Who's Hamilton talking to?"_

_There was a knock on the door of the surveillance van. "Hey! Who's in there?"_

_The partners turned to one another._

_"I'll get rid of them," one of them said, trying to stay calm. He stood and opened the door to the van. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, several shots were fired, and the NID agent fell to the floor of the van. A split-second passed before the door to the van was slammed open, and one of Hamilton's security guards shot at the other agent._

_

* * *

_

Grace shot up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. She breathed heavily for a few moments before her heart finally calmed enough to let her think clearly.

Surveillance on Senator Hamilton. Two different conversations about abducting children that belonged to a family that would be completely covered by the media after a certain announcement.

Someone was trying to tell her something, but who was giving her the visions and why were they coming to her?

She finally lay back against her pillow, studying the ceiling. Flashes of images passed through her mind – the agent falling back against the floor of the van as blood flowed freely from his chest, the face of the first girl's boyfriend frozen in death, the feeling of bullets penetrating her flesh, the momentary suffocation from her vision of the tsunami.

She shuddered, involuntarily. With these horrible images visiting her night after night, she had no incentive to ever sleep again.


	8. Past and Present

Jack pulled up to the Miller house, inhaling somewhat nervously. As he prepared to see his ex-wife, he couldn't help but think of their now-grown son – the son whose supposed death had deepened the chasm that Jack's black ops days had created between the couple.

It wasn't that Jack didn't love that Charlie was back, and as Sam had told him early in their marriage, he wouldn't be where he was today if Charlie hadn't been abducted by the Asgard and presumed dead when his clone had shot himself in the interim. The problem had arisen when Sara had reappeared in his life, and some of the issues he'd overcome since joining SG-1 and meeting Sam, had become point of surprise and later, a certain amount of jealousy for his ex.

He smiled as he thought of his son, the immensely talented carpenter, whose wife, Cassandra, was due to deliver his first grandchild by the end of the year. His joy was momentarily interrupted as he thought about why he was here. A struggle was brewing between Sam, who'd become like a mother to Cassandra after Janet's death and had become Charlie's step-mother when she had married Jack, and Sara, who probably felt left out as parts of Charlie's life and even parts of her obstetrician's life was hidden under the cloak of the Stargate Program's confidentiality.

Jack stepped out of the car, having left five-year-old Jacob with Vala for the afternoon. He swallowed as he saw the old car in the driveway – Sara was probably fixing it up. Only when she'd been pregnant with Charlie had she given up the hobby, claiming that it was "too difficult to move under the hood of a car with a basketball-sized belly between you and the engine."

For a moment, the similarities between his ex-wife and his current wife were crystal clear. What was it that attracted him to blonds who enjoyed working with machines?

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Sara's door, pressing his finger against the button that rang the doorbell.

"Coming."

A moment later, the door flew open to reveal Sara's face. "Jack." She greeted, surprised.

"Hi, Sara." He said, somewhat solemnly.

"You know, even in jeans and a sweatshirt, you look like an officer," she observed with a wry half-smile before she sobered. "You've got the same look on your face that the officer who came and told me you were MIA had on his face." She inhaled deeply as she folded her arms across her chest as she leaned against the door frame. "What is it?"

"Can I come in for a minute?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

He stepped into the house, and she closed the door behind him. "So…" She prompted.

"Sam called me yesterday from work." He sighed. "She was a little upset."

Sara looked only marginally interested.

"Look, I get it." He said, noticing the look of dismissal in her eyes. "We both get it. This whole situation is…uncomfortable. In fact, when Charlie first showed up after all these years, Sam wasn't sure that you and I wouldn't get back together."

Sara raised an eyebrow.

"I, of course, explained that there was more to our divorce than just Charlie…but that's not the point." He said, shaking his head. "Sara, I know that you're probably a little uncomfortable because until now, I didn't realize how…similar you two are, but at the same time, she and I have a few things you and I didn't have. For instance, she was an Air Force officer, we worked on some of the same top-secret projects, we have the kids that you and I couldn't have after Charlie…"

He paused as he recognized the look of indignation that appeared in her eyes whenever she was trying not to cry. "I get that she's got a different way of doing things than you did. But it's not her fault that we lost those years with Charlie, and it's not her fault that we couldn't work through things after Charlie was gone."

"I never said she was," Sara murmured, humbly.

"You didn't have to." He said, simply. He inhaled. "She's a strong, intuitive and intelligent woman, and if this was just about her, she probably wouldn't have said anything. Not even to me."

"But…" She prompted.

"Cassandra and Sam have a bond that I don't think Cassandra has had with anyone, even her mother…"

"Sam thinks I overstepped my bounds in suggesting that Cassandra take it easy at work."

"I think it's more like she's concerned that you don't approve of some of Cassandra and Charlie's decisions, and that, in order to preserve your relationship with them, you're blaming them on her."

"I see." She said after a moment.

"She just doesn't want whatever is awkward between us to affect Charlie, Cassandra, or this coming grandchild."

"That's a legitimate concern," Sara agreed, nodding.

"Anyway, that's all I came to say," he said with a shrug.

"Off into the sunset on your white horse, huh?"

He raised an eyebrow, interested in an explanation for her statement.

"You always did want to be the white knight that rescued your damsel in distress – whether that was someone on your team or…" She swallowed. "Well, for a while there, I was your damsel in distress."

"That was a long time ago, Sara," he said, soberly. "We've both changed a lot since then."

"Not as much as you'd like to think," she said, quietly. She reached for the door knob. "I'll try to be better about Sam."

"Thank you." He said, taking the unspoken cue to leave.

"Jack?" She asked after a moment.

He turned from where he stood on the porch.

"That guy who came to my house about a year after the divorce…he wasn't you, was he?"

It was more of a sad statement than an actual question, and Jack bit his lip for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm not even sure that I know exactly what he was."

She looked thoughtful for a moment before she opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, having changed her mind.

"What?" He prompted, gently.

"Did you ever want to get back together?" She asked, somewhat hesitantly. "Was it just…" She exhaled, slowly. "Over even before I left?"

"I'm not sure that we should…" Jack hesitated.

"It's okay." She interrupted, earnestly. "I just…I need to know."

Jack nodded, recognizing the need for closure. "I know you had just…had enough, but I healed a lot on that mission. I guess I just needed to get back to something more…normal." He sighed. "I understood. I figured you couldn't do it anymore – didn't want to do it anymore."

She nodded, slowly. "And since you didn't want me to be unhappy, you didn't come after me."

"That was a long time ago," Jack said again. "And you've got Tim, and I have Sam."

She nodded.

"Now, I need to go and pick Jacob up."

Sara nodded, managing a small smile. "Take care, Jack."

"You too." He said before turning back around and heading down the stairs to his car.

* * *

Sam walked into the kitchen with a small smile, kissing her husband's cheek affectionately. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Ooh, breaking out the rarely-used nicknames," he teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "What's the occasion?"

"There has to be an occasion?" She asked, clearly happy to be in his embrace.

"No," he said, brushing her blond bangs to the side with a tender finger. He leaned his lips down and kissed her. "Have I told you yet today how much I love you?"

"I think you said it some time after we woke up with Grace," she said, softly. "Which was probably sometime early this morning, but...it bears repeating." She studied him closely. "What's going on?"

"I talked to Sara." He said, quietly.

"Oh." She said with sudden understanding. "How did that go?"

He shrugged. "It was...bittersweet. Lots of memories."

"I'll bet." She said, running a thumb over his cheek in a gentle caress. "You didn't have to do that."

"Actually, I did." He said, soberly. "Sara said she'll try to be easier on you."

"It wasn't me that I was worried about," she began, and he put a finger over her lips to silence her.

"I know." He said with loving eyes as he smiled at her. "You're a strong woman, and I love you for it. But it was time for some of the things that emerged when Charlie reappeared in our lives to be said aloud."

"Like?" She prompted, quietly.

"Like the fact that our marriage was on the rocks a long time before Charlie actually died. And now that she has some clearance into the Stargate program, she needed to know a few things about how that mission, which I took because it was suicidal, was actually the vehicle to normalcy in my life."

She chuckled softly at the irony that the most abnormal job in the universe had instilled in her husband a sense of normalcy.

Jack looked down at the ground for a moment before he looked back at her, earnestly. "Sam, I need you to know that, while it's true that if Sara had been inclined to get back together right after the Abydos mission, I probably would have been married when we met, she was a part of my history long before I ever met you."

Sam swallowed, remembering the fears that Charlie's resurrection had brought to her, the fear that Jack would regret his years with her, and desire instead to reunite with his ex-wife. Before she even knew it, a single tear slipped down her cheek, where Jack brushed it away with the softness of his touch. "I love you, Samantha Carter. I have loved you almost since I met you, and I promise you that I will keep doing so until the day I die, and probably beyond."

With tears moistening her eyes, Sam looked deep into her husband's eyes, remembering the hundreds of times she'd been ashamed to see what lay there and insecure enough about herself that she didn't want to see what had been there. Now, she relished in the fact that there was no shame or fear in her body as she felt herself swallowed up in the warm, brown eyes which belonged to her husband.

"I know, Jack," she managed. "And through all the years I've known you, you've been my constant. You've never truly let me down, even when I wanted you to; you've taught me more about myself than I ever knew there was to know; and though it took me years to see it, you're the only man I could ever truly love because your heart is the other half of mine." She swallowed, thickly. "And no false god, no Air Force tribunal, no Ascended being, or teenaged daughter could ever come between us because I always know you'll back me up." She felt another tear slip down her cheek. "I love you, Jack O'Neill, more than I ever knew I was capable, and I hope that over the next ten years, you'll teach me how to love you even more than I love you now."

Jack smiled at her, gently reaching back to her ponytail like he had on their wedding day, and released her hair from its captivity. "I was going to ask if you wanted us to renew our vows for our anniversary, but I think we just did." He chuckled, softly.

"I've always felt like you renewed your vows to me everyday," she whispered as she let her arms snake around his neck. "This...this was just...more verbal than when you pick the kids up from school because I'm at work, take me out to dinner "just because", support me in my choices, show me how much you love me, and all of the millions of other things you do for me." She rocked up onto her tiptoes slightly so that she could reach his lips with her own more easily. "As you told Cassandra when she and Charlie got engaged, it's those small and simple things that keep me coming back for more." She kissed him, tenderly. "Thank you."

"You deserve it, Samantha," he said with a soft voice.

She smiled softly before Grace coughed to announce her presence. Sam instantly turned. "Grace, honey? How was school?"

She sighed. "Fine."

"Doesn't sound fine," Sam said, confused.

"Yeah, well, it was fine, okay?" She said, annoyed by her mother's questions.

"How was the boy from your dream?"

It seemed for a moment to Sam as if Grace froze, but it was only for a split-second. "I saw him in the hallway. Hardly even know him, but he didn't look dead, if that's what you mean."

"Good to hear," Sam said with a small sigh. "What do you need?"

"When's dinner? I told Makayla that I'd call and help her with ideas for her science project."

"Why don't you invite her over here?" Sam invited. "I'd be happy to help you girls if you need anything."

Grace rolled her eyes. "If our teacher wanted us to build some weird alien death ray, you'd be the first we'd call, but we're just doing a model of the solar system."

"But..." Sam began.

"Grace," Jack interrupted on his wife's behalf. "Your mom's teaching that right now. That's what her astronomy class is about."

"I think I can handle it," Grace said, rolling her eyes.

Sam inhaled for a moment before swallowing. "I don't know when dinner will be ready. We'll call you when it's ready, okay?"

"Fine, but Makayla's mom doesn't like it when I call her more than once."

"Then don't do that."

"But what if we don't finish talking about the project?"

"You'll see each other at school tomorrow." Sam said, forcing a pleasant smile to her lips. "Unless, of course, you would like to invite Makayla here where you could both have dinner and work on your project with the possibility of asking a professional for help."

"Fine, but if her mom yells at me, it's your fault." Grace said, retreating to her bedroom.

Jack pulled his wife closer to him, gently offering her a supportive kiss at her temple. "What was that you said about false gods and teenaged daughters?"

She laughed, softly, grateful for the man who even now, taught her that life was easier to swallow with a healthy side of good humor.


	9. Normal

"_I don't like this."_

_She turned to the other agent. "We lost two agents here yesterday. How else do you suggest we investigate their deaths?"_

"_Look, if we tell them about the deaths, we have to admit the surveillance." The first agent, a burly black man, said with a sigh. "We know it was Hamilton. How could it not be?"_

"_I don't know where you got your criminal justice degree, Larson, but where I come from, it's still innocence until proven guilty."_

"_Which is why we were tailing a U.S. Senator."_

"_That's an order," she barked in frustration._

"_Agent Barrett?" Someone asked, poking their head into the office._

"_Yes?" She asked, looking up._

"_Phone call on line 3."_

_She picked up the phone and put it to her ear. "Barrett."_

"_You know that blond you keep working with? The ex-general in Colorado?" A smoky voice that was completely unidentifiable. "We'll leave her alone in exchange for whatever tapes you have from the Senator's office. If you don't, we can't make any promises, and who's to say you won't be blamed? Can't afford to have another black mark on your record after the whole goa'uld fiasco."_

"_Who is this?" She demanded instantly as the line went dead._

"_Dammit." She cursed, angrily. "Tell me we had that taped or traced or something!"_

_The agents in the office looked up, almost apologetic. "Sam's in trouble." He groaned, reaching for his coat._

The dream changed, and suddenly, Grace could see a dark, hooded figure at a pay phone in a dark alley.

"_How was that?" The smoky voice asked, looking at her._

"_Perfect."_

"_All right," the beggar said, reaching out a hand. "Now, I gave you what you wanted..."_

"_That's right," she said, looking at one of the men who had accompanied her, a tall, lean man with blond hair and blue eyes. "Give him what he deserves."_

_The second man nodded before pulling out a silenced pistol and shooting the beggar twice in the chest. He was dead before he hit the pavement. "Having fun yet, Barrett?" She asked, thinking of the sandy-haired NID agent._

_Sam. Ex-general in Colorado who worked with Agent Barrett._

Grace sat up in bed, her eyes swiftly scanning the room for intruders. "They're going to kill my mom," she whispered, trembling.

* * *

Grace approached her door, surprised to see light from the kitchen shining underneath her door. She pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear what was going on.

"Maybe you're right," her mother sighed, softly. "Maybe the only way we can really keep them safe is to just...pull them out of school. I could do math and science, Daniel could do social studies and history, you could coach them in English, and they could take art and music lessons and each could join some sort of sports team."

"I just don't see how they can really learn to use their gifts in an environment other than our home. Especially Jacob."

"Grace's visions seem to be tapering off," Sam said, hopefully.

"You think so?" Jack asked, skeptically.

"Look, I know that she would tell us if she was having a vision. Am I still worried about the fact that she had a nightmare about one of the kids in her class being killed? Of course I am. Am I still concerned that if she doesn't start getting some therapy, she'll kill herself by not sleeping? You better believe it. But am I relieved that she's not having those terrible visions anymore? More than I can even say."

"What if she's still having the visions, Sam? What if she walked through her bedroom door and told us something like that dream she shared with us when you were expecting Jacob, hm? What if she were to tell us that your life was in danger? Would you do something stupid like you did then, and walk into the trap?"

She could make out that her mother's voice was responding, but the specifics of her mother's words were lost in the quietness of her tone.

Grace sighed. She remembered it clearly. She'd asked what the Titans were, she'd drawn a Celtic symbol, and her mother had rushed out the door only to collapse in exhaustion after using her unborn son's telepathy to save Teal'c's life. She'd been put on bedrest instantly, and remained there for almost three months.

Grace pulled away from the door. Her warning had not saved her mother, but endangered her unborn baby brother's life on that occasion as well. Her warning to her biological parents only served to fuel the argument that had caused the split-second distraction from the roads which led to their fatal accident.

Could the answer have been there all along? She wondered quietly to herself. If she just kept the prophecies to herself, could she avoid the very fate which lay in wait to claim her family and friends. Better yet, she thought to herself suddenly, with a few energy drinks and cups of coffee, she could avoid the visions forever, slipping only into a dreamless sleep when her body could take no more of her wakefulness.

She walked over to the desk, careful not to make a sound that would alert her parents to her plan. She quickly set an alarm on her cell phone. Tomorrow morning, she'd "awaken", having made coffee for her parents in an effort to apologize for her behavior the night before. What they didn't need to know was that she was merely covering the smell of the coffee that she'd brewed for herself before they'd awoken.

She pulled a notebook off of the nightstand, and quickly hopped back into bed where she used the moonlight to illuminate her musings.

* * *

The alarm clock startled Sam out of her dreams as Jack's arms snaked around her waist. "Morning time," she said with a small smile.

"Aw," he groaned. "I was just getting comfortable."

She patted his hands with her own, and she allowed herself the chance to lay there and savor having his arms around her for a moment.

Suddenly, she smelled a familiar, but unexpected scent.

"Jack?" She asked, turning to look as far over her shoulder as she could.

"Hm?"

"Do you smell coffee?" She asked, confused.

"Coffee?" He asked, suddenly awake.

"Yeah."

"Come to think of it," he said after a moment. "Yes. Yes, I do smell coffee."

"And scrambled eggs?"

"Them too."

Sam slipped out of her husband's embrace and out of bed. "Who do you suppose could be making us breakfast?" She asked, turning to face him as she pulled on a terrycloth robe to ward off the chill of the early-morning house.

"Maybe it's Grace."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know." He chuckled softly.

"I'm going to go see."

"More power to you," he winked. "I'm going to get more sleep. Unlike you, I'm ACTUALLY retired."

She threw him a mockingly annoyed look before shaking her head with a chuckle as she walked out of the room.

"Morning," Grace greeted, brightly, her attention diverted from the frying pan for only a moment as she looked up at her mother.

"Good morning to you too," Sam said, confused. "What are you doing awake?"

"Oh, I just wanted to get some work done on that science project before school. Makayla thought it would be nice to have your help, so I wanted to apologize before I asked you to help." She pulled a pan of scrambled eggs from the burner before she reached for the coffee pot. "I was just about to make some french toast and some bacon. You want some coffee?"

"If I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing," Sam murmured to herself. "I'm going to need it." She looked back at her daughter, now pouring her a steaming cup of the bitter liquid, as she sat down on one of the bar stools that sat at the island counter. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine." She said with a smile as she handed her mother the mug. "Like I said..."

"You wanted to work on your science project before school." Sam said, nodding. "And you really do want my help, so you made breakfast to apologize for last night."

"Exactly." Grace said with a grin.

"What's going on out here?" Jack asked, walking out of the bedroom a few moments later when he smelled lean, turkey bacon sizzling on the stove top.

"Morning, Dad." Grace said, cheerfully.

"Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" He teased with a dead-pan expression.

She chuckled. "Want some coffee? Maybe some eggs?"

"Hm...eggs..."

Sam looked over with a small chuckle from where she sat, drinking her own cup of coffee.

"I'll take that as a "yes"," Grace said, quickly serving up a plate of the scrambled eggs.

"Grace, why don't you let me help you with the French toast, okay?"

"I've got it." Grace said, shaking her head.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, almost skeptically.

"Yes. Go get dressed, like you always do, and then you can wake Jacob up. Like you always do."

"Not yet," she said, shaking her head. "What did you want to do for your science project?"

"We were thinking of making a mobile with the planets and the moons and the sun."

Sam thought about the idea for a moment. "Sounds do-able." She admitted. "And creative."

"We were thinking we could give it to Charlie and Cassie for the baby's room when we're finished."

"Well, you know how we feel about letting things go to waste," Jack joked as he stood from his plate of eggs to serve himself a cup of coffee. "And we have the Stargate in our basement to prove it."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle. He knew as well as she did that she'd turned Orlin's homemade Stargate over to Area 51 when she'd moved to Nevada in the interest of not having to move the device frequently. Several eyebrows had been raised at its sudden "recovery", but she didn't apologize. She'd taken the time to study it as well as she could, and while she was still making the credit card payments on the nearly five figure project, she felt entirely justified in doing so.

"Mommy?" Jacob asked, sleepily, from where he had emerged from his room, rubbing at his eyes.

Sam turned around. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Do I smell bacon?"

Sam chuckled once more. Definitely his father's son, she mused to herself. "Yep. Hop on up here, and I'll fix you a plate."

She gently tousled his hair before she kissed the top of his head affectionately. "I sure love you, little man."

"I love you too, Mom."

Sam walked over to where her daughter was rushing around the kitchen, and kissed the top of her daughter's head. "I love you too, angel."

"I love you too, Mom."

Sam smiled as Jack looked up at her." Hey! Where's my kiss?"

She grinned as she walked over. "I love you, Jack O'Neill," she murmured as she kissed him.

"I love you too, Mrs. O'Neill."

* * *

Grace sat in her room, the effects of her "all-nighter" beginning to catch up with her as the numbers of her math assignment all began to blur together. She rubbed her forehead as if to ward off the oncoming headache that had come from drinking a whole pot of coffee and two energy drinks over the course of the day.

Her eyes flickered over to where the third drink sat in her backpack. The caffeine would undoubtedly end her headache before it really began, but she could already feel her eyes closing of their own accord, so she knew that the drink would come in handy in a few hours when her parents expected her to be in bed.

There was a knock at the door, and Grace groaned, grumpily. "I'll be there in a minute, Mom."

"It's not your mom," a distinctly male voice called through the door.

"Charlie!" She squealed, jumping off the bed at the sound of her older brother's voice. She ran to the door and threw it open, excitedly.

"Hello to you too," he laughed as he hugged her.

"When did you get here?"

"Just now," Cassandra said, joining her husband in the doorway. "I had a shift that ended about a half-hour ago."

"Speaking of," Charlie said, turning to his wife. "You should be sitting down."

"I'm fine," she said, her tone somewhat edgy.

"But Cassandra..."

"Don't "but Cassandra" me, Charlie." She snapped somewhat coldly. "You do this every time I get home from a long shift."

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, approaching the doorway.

Cassandra heaved a heavy sigh as she shot her husband a look. "No. I was just going to go and "sit down"."

Cassandra turned to leave, and Sam patted Charlie's back, supportively. "Dinner's ready, you guys."

Charlie nodded, quietly.

Sam watched him go, wondering for a moment how she could help the young couple. Then, she turned to her daughter. "Come on, angel. Time to eat."

Grace sighed softly before she nodded. "Okay."

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, perceptively.

"Charlie seems different with the baby coming." She said after a moment.

Sam wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "It's a big change," she agreed. "But I'll bet Charlie and Cassandra are even more nervous about it than you are."

Grace bit her lip as if she wasn't entirely sure.

"Being a parent is hard work," Sam said, softly. "I know your dad and I sometimes make it look easy, but it can be intimidating. And those last few months of a pregnancy..." Sam inhaled at the memory of her own pregnancy. "Well, they're hard. For everyone. I'll bet you remember what I was like those last few weeks before Jacob was born, hm?"

Grace shrugged.

Sam kissed the top of her daughter's head again. "I love you, angel. Trust me, everything's going to be all right."

Grace looked up at her mother with an unreadable expression on her face before she hugged her tightly. "I love you, Mom."

"You comin'?" Jack asked, turning to his wife.

Sam blinked away tears as Grace finally pulled away. "Yeah," she said with emotion in her voice. "We're coming."

To her surprise, Grace was wiping away tears of her own as she passed her father on her way to the dining room.

"What just happened?" Jack asked, confused.

"I'm not sure," Sam said, wiping at her own eyes. "One minute, she was worried about Charlie, and the next minute, she was hugging me and telling me that she loves me."

"Hm..." Jack said, looking back toward the dining room. "Well, no one ever said that teenagers weren't fickle."

Sam chuckled softly as she wrapped a hand around her husband's waist. "Come on, Jack, let's get to the dinner table before the teenager and the pregnant woman eat all our food, hm?"

Jack laughed before kissing her temple.


	10. Dinner

_*Author's Note: I apologize if Grace's vision in the last chapter was confusing. Agent Barrett is the same male Agent Barrett that we all know and love, but the visions in the story are written from Grace's point-of-view, and when she is seeing things through the eyes of one of the participants in the events, she doesn't always know whose eyes they are. I will try to make this distinction a little clearer in the future._

* * *

The awkward silence that pervaded the dining room made Sam turn a nervous smile to her husband for a moment as she cut another bite of her herb-crusted chicken breast. "How's your business class going?" She asked, turning to Charlie.

He swallowed a bite of food. "It's pretty good. The class ends in the next few weeks, and then, I'll be taking a break from my studies."

Jack looked up in surprise. "What?"

Cassandra's jaw tensed, and the tiny change in the doctor's demeanor did not go unnoticed.

"Why?" Sam asked, quietly.

"I don't think I'd be able to keep up with my orders, go to school, and help with the baby when it comes."

"That's why you have us and Sara." Jack piped up. "To help you with that stuff."

"Maybe Dad could help you with your orders," Grace said, quietly.

Sam looked over at her daughter in surprise. "That might not be a bad idea," she said, turning to her stepson.

"It's okay. I can handle it." Charlie said, shaking his head.

Cassandra, who had just been pushing her food around her plate, dropped her fork back to the table. "You don't have to do this by yourself, Charlie." She snapped, angrily, before she stood and stormed away from the table.

Charlie sighed as he watched her go, and Sam turned to Grace and Jacob. "Why don't you take your dinner downstairs and watch a movie, hm?" Her voice was soft, but Grace could see the underlying order in her eyes.

Grace stood, silently grabbing her brother's hand. Even the five-year-old was quiet as they took their plates and walked toward the basement door.

"What was that about?" Jack asked, turning to his son.

Charlie sighed. "She's been...touchy for the last few days."

"We noticed," Sam said, wryly. "Why?"

Charlie swallowed. "A few days ago, Cassandra had her monthly checkup."

"And?"

"The doctor said her blood pressure was a little high and suggested that she take it easy at work."

Sam swallowed, and Jack nodded, indicating that she should go to find Cassandra. She stood, and walked out to the kitchen. "Hey," she said as she walked over and patted her back with a small smile.

Cassandra turned to face her, her eyes red and puffy like she'd been crying. "I'm fine."

"Let's make some tea," Sam said, managing a gentle smile.

Cassandra inhaled as Sam began filling the kettle with water. "Charlie told you about the doctor's appointment, didn't he?"

Sam turned to her and nodded, still doing her work. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"It scared him." She said, swallowing. "With everything that happened with his first wife..."

Sam turned to Cassandra and nodded. "I know."

"I know, I know," she said, shrugging off her own emotion. "You and Jack were here when you were thinking about adopting Grace and about having Jacob..."

"Yes," Sam said, having put the kettle on to boil. "But you and Charlie have your own journey to go on. Whether or not Jack and I understand is kind of a moot point."

"Every time we talk about it, he tells me that I should take it easy at work, and that he'll take some time off from school. It's not productive."

Sam inhaled, thinking to herself for a few moments before she turned to the younger woman. "I bet you didn't know that we don't have a gun in our house."

Cassandra's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I tried to tell Jack that we'd be able to teach the kids better than he and Sara taught Charlie, and that he was just being oversensitive about the whole thing, but...in the end, I decided that I felt more for him than I did for my opinion."

"You're saying that I should just roll over and do exactly what he asked?" She said, angrily.

"I'm saying that you should decide where your priorities are. And he's not asking you to give up your job, just asking you to think about taking it easy."

"I'm pregnant, not sick."

"Tell me what high blood pressure can lead to in a pregnant woman?" Sam asked, looking at Cassandra, soberly.

"You know almost as well as I do what those effects can be." Cassandra said with a sigh.

"Yes." Sam said, nodding. "Because it was a condition that I suffered from when I was pregnant with Jacob. Want to tell me what happened to me because I didn't listen to my doctors and take it easy at work?"

"Like that's possible when you work at the SGC."

Sam looked at her for a moment before she sighed. "That was your point, wasn't it?" Cassandra said, chagrined.

"It is possible to get a temporary reassignment until after your maternity leave." Sam said, softly. "I'd be willing to make some calls if you need me to."

Cassandra was silent with tears moistening her eyes as she looked down at her belly, putting a hand on it as if doing so would let her touch the life she was growing inside her. "Charlie wasn't the only one who got scared," she admitted, softly.

"I didn't think so," Sam said as the kettle whistled.

* * *

"You told your mom about the doctor's appointment?"

Charlie looked at his dad, confused. "What?"

"Did you tell your mom?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Just makes a few things a lot clearer now," Jack said with a grimace. He inhaled. "Look, you know what you signed up for, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You knew Cassandra's ambition before you got married, and you knew about how hard she works during the first few years of your marriage."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"I thought she'd slow down with the baby. I mean, she's lost just as much as I have. I thought she'd understand."

"There's something you need to know about all of the women that Cassandra's looked up to." Jack thought for a moment before he shrugged. "Well, actually...there's something you need to know about all of the Earth women Cassandra's looked up to."

"What?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"Well, you know Sam." Jack said with a small, affectionate smile. "But you never knew Janet."

"Cassandra's told me a bit about her."

"I'm sure," Jack said, nodding. "But what Cassandra can't tell you is how hard Janet worked whenever there was a crisis on the base. Medical, technological...whatever the crisis was, she was the first one to adapt. She left very big shoes to fill for all of the other medical officers on the base. In fact, it took us about a year and a half before we found an appropriate replacement."

Jack's eyes took on a far away look. "I was injured on that mission. I was in and out of surgery and on all sorts of sedatives and pain meds...so it was a few days before General Hammond came and told me the news."

Jack coughed, trying to cover his emotion. "I can't tell you how many times Janet Fraiser saved my life. She would stay up for days on end, trying to get to the bottom of whatever was affecting us. She and Sam were best friends. Sometimes, Janet was there telling Sam that she could save us, being the sounding board that Sam could bounce ideas off of. Other times, Sam was doing whatever she could to help Janet find a way to end whatever outbreak had appeared on the base."

"So, you're saying that Janet and Sam were both workaholics, and so...I need to expect that Cassandra's just like that, and she can't change."

"Sam changed," Jack said, soberly. "She gave up the military, and kept the science."

"She didn't exactly have a choice."

"Yes, she did. Landry may have removed her from command, but he very well could have put her back in command if she'd wanted to be put there."

"So, I'm just supposed to wait?" He asked, skeptically. "She's pregnant now."

"And you aren't a little overly protective of her because of what happened to Guin?"

Charlie tensed.

"I don't need an answer," Jack assured. "But Cassandra might."

* * *

Cassandra looked up to the ceiling, miserably. "How many families can one person lose?" She asked, big, fat tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "Wait, don't tell me. I don't ever want to find out."

"Me either."

Sam and Cassandra both turned to the source of the comment. Cassandra instantly wiped away her tears as she turned her back on her husband. "I don't want to talk to you."

Sam bit the inside of her cheek as she turned away in order to let Charlie take over with his wife.

"Well, not talking got us into this mess, so...I think we should talk." Charlie said, putting his hands on her arms.

"Why should we?" She asked, tearfully. "I think you made your position abundantly clear. "You want me to be more like your mother – stay at home with the kids, clean the house, keep dinner on the table – and you want me to do it so that you can feed your precious male ego that is incensed that I'm contributing something to the financial welfare of our family."

"I can see how that would seem to be the case," Charlie said after a moment. "And I'm sorry if I ever gave you that impression, but that's not how I feel."

She turned a skeptical eye to him.

"Cassandra, we used to talk about Guin, but...I feel like since you got pregnant it became kind of...taboo."

"I'm not Guin," she mumbled, her voice thick with tears.

"I know. But I lost a family the day I lost her, and I don't want to lose you." He brushed away the errant strands of her auburn hair from her face as he offered her an affectionate smile. "You're my world, Cassandra Fraiser, and I don't know what I would do without you."

Cassandra's tears were falling freely now, and she swallowed, trying to get past the lump in her throat that threatened to burst with all of the fear and emotion she had locked within herself. "I...I'm scared," she whispered, softly.

"I know." He said, tenderly. "I am too. That's the only reason I ever asked you to cut your hours at work or ease up a bit. Not because I didn't respect you or what you're trying to do."

She broke down, and Charlie quickly gathered her into his arms, holding her closely and whispering gentle words of comfort to her as they held one another.

* * *

Sam turned to her husband with a small sigh. "Crisis averted."

"Nah," Jack said, shaking his head. "Crisis managed. There's a difference."

Sam nodded, thoughtfully.

"You know, it makes a lot more sense why Sara called you now."

She turned in surprise. "Oh?"

"Charlie told her about how worried he was about Cassandra."

"Ah." Sam said, nodding. "Makes sense."

"Are you okay?" He asked, studying her more closely.

"I miss Janet," she said with a small, brave smile. "She would have been so excited to be a grandmother."

"I agree." Jack said, nodding. The memories which were still near the surface from his conversation with Charlie haunted his mind for a moment before Sam looked over. "Are you okay?"

He wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her closer. "I miss Janet too."

"She was a good woman," Sam agreed as she rested her cheek on her husband's shoulder.

"One of the best," he said, nodding.


	11. News

"I'll make the coffee," Jack said, rolling out of bed as Sam quickly silenced the alarm.

"I can make it." Sam said with a small chuckle.

"No, you have class today. You go make yourself pretty."

She giggled softly. "Make myself pretty?"

"Not that you're not pretty all the time," he said with a wink. "But I also know that you're happier when you do the hair and makeup thing on days where you have classes."

"So, this is an investment in me being less grouchy after work?" She asked, skeptically.

"I never said that," he laughed.

"You didn't have to," she said, throwing one of the pillows off the bed toward him with a amicable chuckle.

He caught the pillow easily. "Hop in the shower. I'll wake the kids up and get breakfast ready."

"Have I told you I love you?" She asked with a grin.

He leaned over and kissed her. "Not this morning."

She couldn't help but smile as he left before she slipped out of bed and into the master bathroom to begin her morning preparation.

* * *

Sam stepped out of her bedroom, dressed in a warm, cream-colored cable-knit sweater, slender medium tan slacks, and pointed brown stiletto slingback heels. With her makeup in gold tones and her hair curled around her face, she felt like she was ready to handle anything.

A whistle came from the kitchen, and she blushed as she turned to look at her husband.

"Maybe you should stay home today," he winked. "You look too good."

She grinned. "Oh?"

"Yep. Can't have all those college kids giving up on the girls their own age because they want my woman."

She blushed again, clearly pleased by the attention. "Where are the kids?"

"Jake's getting dressed, but I didn't get any response from Grace. Thought I might try again after I got breakfast started."

She nodded as she walked toward the teen's bedroom. "I'll get her."

"I'll keep working on these pancakes," he said, waving his spatula toward her.

She shook her head as she reached the door and knocked. "Grace, honey!" She called. "Time to wake up!"

There was no answer from the teenager, and Sam pushed the door, which had been slightly ajar, open. "Grace?"

The teen lay, fully dressed, face down on her bed with a history book out in front of her.

Sam hurried into the room. "Grace," she cried as she gently shook her daughter.

The young woman gasped. "Mom!" She cried as her eyes opened.

"Are you okay? Why didn't you get in your pajamas last night?"

She grimaced as the light from the kitchen and hallway came through the door. "Don't know...guess I just...fell asleep."

Sam pressed her hand against her daughter's forehead. "You're not feverish," she said in an authoritative diagnostic voice. "Anything hurting? Do you feel sick?"

"Headache." She groaned. "And tired."

Sam studied her daughter. "Maybe you should stay home today."

"Okay," Grace said without argument as she prepared to lay back down.

"Why don't you change into your pajamas," Sam said, patting her daughter's knee. "I'll call in today so your dad can still go with Jacob."

"I'm okay by myself." Grace groaned.

"I'm calling in today," Sam said, firmly. "Change into your pajamas and then, head back to bed, okay?"

"Okay," Grace said, standing as her mother walked out the door.

Sam sighed, looking over at her husband.

"What is it?" He asked, confused.

"She's sick today. I'm going to have my TA take the class."

"You don't need to do that," Jack said, shaking his head. "I can drop Jake off at school and come back, or she can stay by herself while we're at Jake's school."

Sam shook her head. "I don't like the idea of either of the kids being by themselves – Grace is sick, and I'm not sure what it is exactly, and I don't trust that Jacob's got enough of a handle on his telekinesis to keep himself from getting into trouble."

"So, we let him stay home from school."

"And tell him that truancy is okay?" She asked, skeptically. She shook her head. "I'll take the day. It's okay."

"Sam, he's in Kindergarten." He said, raising an eyebrow.

Sam tensed before she turned back. "Look," she said, softly. "I know you could probably handle it. But..." She swallowed. "I've made a few mistakes since I became a mother, and one of them is...maybe sending the message that my work is more important than my children."

"I don't think you have sent that message." He said, seriously. "Especially over the last five years."

Sam managed a small smile. "I'd still like to do this."

He nodded after a moment. "Okay. Fine. I'll stop arguing."

She sighed before she reached for the phone. "I'm calling Cassandra. Grace needs to be looked at."

"Sam," Jack said, calmly. "Let's talk before you do that. What are her symptoms?"

"Headache, and she's tired."

"That's a one-day at home thing, Sam," he soothed as he flipped a pancake.

"She was lying there like she'd passed out." Sam said, looking over at him. "She hadn't even changed her clothes."

"Was she on top of a book? She probably was just working late on her homework and fell asleep."

Sam opened her mouth to speak before she nodded. "Yeah, I think she was lying on a book."

"Let's not bother Cassandra until there's something else to report, okay?"

She sighed as she nodded. "I just..."

"You're hyper-sensitive?"

She threw him a venomous glance.

"Sam, you have two kids with...unique talents. You're not willing to leave either of them completely alone, even though one of them is over the age of twelve, and legally able to spend a few hours alone at home. I'm not saying it's bad, just...maybe a little...overprotective."

She walked over and poured herself a cup of coffee. "All right, all right."

The sound of her cell phone ringtone interrupted their conversation, and Sam put her mug on the counter before heading into the bedroom to retrieve it.

"Carter," she greeted by habit.

"Sam, it's Daniel."

"Daniel!" She said with a smile. "What's going on?"

"Barrett was in an accident."

"What?" She asked, shocked.

"We're still not sure why he was in Denver to begin with, but we're talking to his team in DC."

"Is he okay?" Sam asked, soberly.

"It's hard to say," he said after a moment. "All we know is that he can't be interviewed right now because he's unconscious."

"What does his team have to say?"

"We're not sure yet."

"Dammit," she cursed, angrily.

"Something wrong?" Jack asked, looking into the bedroom.

"Barrett was in Denver, and he was in an accident. He's unconscious, and none of us seem to know why he was in Denver to begin with." She said, turning back to him.

"Oh boy," he said, uncomfortably.

"I know he's a friend of yours, so I thought I'd let you know."

"Thank you, Daniel." She said with a small grateful smile. "Keep me informed, hm?"

"Will do."

She hung up, turning a sick look to her husband. "Why do I get the feeling that something bad is around the corner?"

"What kind of accident?"

"Accidents are awfully convenient for federal agents," she said, skeptically.

"Sam..."

"So, now I'm paranoid?" She snapped.

"I didn't say that."

"I'm not paranoid. I'm cautious."

"Whatever you say," he sighed before turning out of the room.

She watched him leave before she sat down on the bed, emotionally exhausted.


	12. Threats

Grace's eyes felt gritty and tired when she finally woke again. A mix of hazy images colored her memory, though each stayed far enough out of her conscious mind that she wasn't able to identify any of them. "No nightmares," she murmured, almost wonderingly.

She looked over at the clock beside her bed. 12:25 pm.

Her eyes widened. She'd never slept past nine before, and she was almost certain that her mother would have something to say when she finally emerged. She swallowed, deciding not to postpone the inevitable.

She slipped out of bed, and walked out to the kitchen to find her mother staring as if at nothing, with her cell phone not too far away.

"Something wrong, Mom?" She asked, concerned.

Sam looked over at her daughter, surprised. "Grace...you're up."

"Yeah. I guess I just lost track of time while I was studying." She said, shrugging.

"That's what your father said," Sam said, clearly distracted.

"Mom, what's wrong?" She asked, taking a few more steps toward her mother.

Sam sighed softly. "A...friend of mine...he was in an accident. We're waiting to hear any news about how he's doing, and about why he's here in Denver."

"Oh." Grace said, nodding.

"Your dad left some pancakes in the fridge for you." Sam said, standing as the doorbell rang. She stood and walked to the door.

Grace swallowed as she watched her mom leave the room. It was more than just a friend in an accident, she determined instantly. It was something much more important than just some friend who'd been in a wreck. Chills ran down her spine as Grace remembered the many times her mother had hurried out of the house to deal with something related to the Stargate program.

That must be what it was, she thought to herself. Something about the Stargate program.

* * *

"General Carter, I'm Special Agent Cynthia Bauer with the NID. I work with Malcolm Barrett." A woman with dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail said as she flashed a badge in front of Sam's face.

"It's not General," Sam said, shaking her head. "Hasn't been for years. How can I help you?"

"I assume you've heard about Agent Barrett's accident."

"Yes. Dr. Jackson from Stargate Command told me about the accident. Any news?"

"He's the same," she said, solemnly. "But that's not why I'm here."

"Okay." Sam said, puzzled by the woman's visit.

"General Carter, did anyone tell you why Agent Barrett was in Denver?"

"No," Sam said, shaking her head.

"Well, up until his accident, he was heading up a task force that was looking into political corruption regarding something called the Trust."

Sam's eyes widened.

"Just before he left the office yesterday, Malcolm received a phone call."

"And?" Sam asked, still not sure what this had to do with her.

"I believe it's why he was headed to Colorado in the first place. Several of the other agents heard him say "Carter's in trouble"."

Sam's blood ran cold. "What?"

"It's standard procedure for us to record and monitor any phone activity in NID headquarters, so when Agent Barrett's accident had been discovered, we started to look into it. Apparently, he received a phone call threatening a "female general in Colorado Springs" that works frequently with Barrett."

Sam tensed.

"We'd like to put you and your family under surveillance."

Sam was so stunned that she almost couldn't say anything. "I-I...I have to talk to my husband first..."

"General Carter," the special agent said, soberly. "We've already had two trained agents killed, not counting Agent Barrett who's comatose in the hospital. It's imperative that we keep your family under surveillance."

She nodded with an almost sudden urgency. "Of course. Come in. Let me call my husband."

It was only a few moments before she retrieved her cell phone and had dialed her husband's cell. He and Jacob were probably on their way home the AM kindergarten class that Jacob attended. She rested her head against the closed door to her bedroom. Internally, she had agreed with her husband that she was probably paranoid, but now...

"I'm only about ten minutes away, Sam." There were traces of the same irritation that had led him to leave in frustration this morning.

"I know." She said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Sam? What's wrong?" Instantly, the irritation was gone and completely replaced by concern.

"Barrett was coming to Colorado Springs..." She began, slowly. "To...to warn me..." Her voice hitched. "There are Federal agents here at the house, Jack. To keep surveillance on us while they finish their investigation." She couldn't keep the tears from her eyes or her voice. "I'm scared, Jack. Not for me, of course, but...for the kids. For you."

"I know," he finally managed. "I'm just a few blocks from the house, okay?"

"Be safe," she said with quiet vulnerability.

* * *

"I thought they got rid of the Trust ten years ago." Jack asked, turning to the special agent in his living room.

"A war against corruption is rarely won when the battle is over," Sam said wearily. "And it takes lifetimes longer than any other war."

"Waxing philosophical, aren't we?" Jack said, turning to his wife.

She sighed heavily. "We should have known that it would take longer than a few months to wipe out the Trust." She swallowed. "We should have seen it when they started getting the CIA involved with the NID's investigation."

Jack winced slightly as he remembered the auburn-haired CIA agent he'd dated briefly during the beginning of that investigation.

Sam turned to the special agent. "If we're somehow involved in your investigation, would you at least tell us who and what you're investigating?"

Agent Bauer swallowed. "I'm sorry. That's confidential."

"You want to put my family under surveillance because we've been threatened by the people being investigated, and you won't even tell me who we're supposed to be protected from?" Sam asked, looking at least fifteen years older than her forty-seven years. "I guess turnabout is fair play here," she said, turning to her husband. "Isn't that what we did for ten years? Ask people to give us whatever we needed to protect them, and then promptly hide what we were protecting them from?"

"There's some speculation that Senator Hamilton is somehow involved with the Trust." She said after a moment. "He's the one we were investigating."

"He's a new character," Sam said, solemnly. "I don't know him."

"Me either." Jack said, shaking his head. "Though with the history of the Trust, I'm not surprised that they managed to get another senator."

"If they didn't get him elected," Sam agreed. She turned to the special agent. "Why would they choose me to threaten?"

Cynthia Bauer shrugged. "I'm sorry. I don't know. We were hoping that you could tell us."

Sam shook her head. "I've been out of the Stargate program for five years. I mean, I've been working on some projects with their scientists, but I'm no more important than any one else that I've been working with."

Bauer turned to one of the other agents, nodding quickly as if communicating an order to him. She turned back to Sam and Jack. "I wish we had more information for you, but we had two agents killed when they were doing some surveillance. Unfortunately, when they were killed, we lost more than just those agents – we also lost the tapes that had been cataloged after bugging the Senator's home."

Sam sighed softly.

"I'll let you know when we have any other information." She promised.

"Thank you," Sam said, gratefully.

Cynthia stood. "We have a van outside, and I'd like to keep a couple of agents in the home, of you don't mind."

Sam looked at Jack, who shrugged. Sam looked back at Cynthia and nodded. "Thank you."

She just nodded before leaving the room. Sam swallowed.

"And I thought having reporters on the front lawn was bad."

Sam couldn't help but laugh at her husband's words.

"What?" He asked, clearly relieved that he'd managed to elicit a smile from her.

"I love you." She said with a tender smile.

"I love you too." He said, more soberly.

"How are we going to get through this?"

"The way we always get through everything. Together."

"That's not what I meant," she said, wryly.

"I know." He said, kissing her temple. "But that's the only answer I've got for you."

She nodded, soberly.


	13. Backup

"I wish we had more information for you, but we had two agents killed when they were doing some surveillance. Unfortunately, when they were killed, we lost more than just those agents – we also lost the tapes that had been cataloged after bugging the Senator's home."

Grace's ears picked up as she stood in the kitchen, trying to focus on making Jacob a sandwich.

Two agents were killed. Surveillance sabotaged.

Flashes of images raced through her mind: _"…they're making the announcement in a few weeks, and when they do, all eyes are going to be on them. Now, the plan is to wait to take the kids until the family is totally covered by th…"_

_Several shots were fired, and the NID agent fell to the floor of the van. A split-second passed before the door to the van was slammed open, and one of Hamilton's security guards shot at the other agent._

"_We lost two agents here yesterday. How else do you suggest we investigate their deaths?"_

"_Look, if we tell them about the deaths, we have to admit the surveillance." The first agent, a burly black man, said with a sigh. "We know it was Hamilton. How could it not be?"_

"_You know that blond you keep working with? The ex-general in Colorado?" A smoky voice that was completely unidentifiable. "We'll leave her alone in exchange for whatever tapes you have from the Senator's office..."_

She dropped the knife she'd used to spread the honey mustard on her brother's sandwich as she felt a pain in her head.

The special agent who walked out of the living room paused for a moment, looking at her quizzically.

"I just remembered that Jacob hates mustard," she lied, weakly.

Agent Bauer seemed somewhat skeptical for a moment before she walked into the dining room to converse with the agents gathered there.

Grace sighed in relief as the pain in her head seemed to dissipate.

"Grace?"

She turned her head toward the basement door where little Jacob stood with wide eyes at the top of the stairs. "Yes, Jacob?"

"Are you done with my sandwich yet?" He asked, quietly.

"Almost," she said, compassionately. "Did you get scared?"

He swallowed.

"Why don't you put the ham on your sandwich?" She said, offering him the package of deli meat. "I'll pour some juice, and we'll go watch a movie downstairs with Doc, okay?"

"Okay." He said softly as he walked toward her.

The doorbell rang, and Grace looked up to find her father walking out of the living room and two agents standing, ready to intervene in case something was wrong.

"Danny! T!"

Grace released the breath she'd been unconsciously holding within before she turned to her brother whose face had lit up instantly. "Go say hi," she nudged with a small smile.

He grinned as he ran toward the front door.

"We have come to render assistance, O'Neill."

Grace bit her lip, fearfully, as she realized that something must be really wrong if members of the SGC's front-line team had joined the protection detail.

"We've called Charlie and Cassandra. Told them about the agents, and I think they're actually coming over. At least until the investigation's over or they figure it's in their best interest to have their own agents."

"Not a bad idea," Daniel whispered in agreement.

"Is someone trying to hurt us?" Her little brother asked, his boyish delight now overwhelmed with adult worry and concern.

Grace took a few steps into the entry as she tried to hear the answer.

"Come inside," Sam said, turning to her old friends. "We probably shouldn't leave the door open longer than we absolutely need to."

Grace felt chilled by the matter-of-fact tone her mother had taken.

Jack looked down at Jacob. "Why don't you and Grace go down and watch a movie? Charlie and Cassie will be here for dinner, and I'm sure..."

"Why won't you just tell us?" Grace interrupted, angrily. "Instead of just pretending everything's all fine and normal! It's not. We have special agents in the house, Cassie and Charlie are coming so that we're all safe together, and Daniel and Teal'c are too important to Stargate Command to just come and sit with us for a few days." Grace had tears of hurt and fear running down her cheeks as she paused. "We're not stupid."

"We never said you were," Sam said, quietly.

"No, you were just going to treat us like we were." Grace said, pausing for a moment before she turned on her heel and returned to her bedroom.

Sam turned to Daniel and Teal'c. "She woke up sick this morning." She said as if that was the reason for the teenager's outburst.

"I'm sure you're all dealing with a lot of stress right now," Daniel said with understanding.

Jacob merely sighed, and Teal'c bent down to his level. "Perhaps you would enjoy learning some of my sparring techniques, young Jacob O'Neill."

Jacob managed a lifeless smile. "Thanks, T."

Sam swallowed before she turned to the agents in the dining room. "Can they come in or do you want to question them to make sure they're legitimate?"

There was a slight bitterness to her tone that initiated a soothing touch from her husband and a nervous smile from the agents whom she was addressing.

"We're coordinating with General Reynolds from the SGC," Bauer said, appearing as if out of nowhere. "He told us to expect Dr. Jackson and Teal'c."

"I think that's code for "come on in, guys"." Jack said, dryly. He kissed his wife's temple. "I'm going to go in and see how Grace is doing, okay?"

She managed a grateful smile as she nodded.

"Maybe Danny can show you Nicole's class picture." He teased, turning a wink to the archaeologist.

"Maybe I should get started on feeding all of the federal agents in our house," she said, half-joking.

"I'll help." Daniel said, cheerfully. "I make a mean turkey sandwich."

Sam turned a half-smile to him, gratefully.

"You okay with us pretending to have a life while you're here?" Jack asked, somewhat acerbically.

Cynthia's eyes narrowed, as if she was far from amused.

"Aw, hell," Jack said, snapping his fingers as if in disappointment. "I guess we're just going to have to do it anyway."

* * *

Daniel looked over at Sam as she withdrew into herself more and more as time passed. "Must be awful," he murmured as he spread mayo on one of the pieces of bread. "I mean, for five years, you thought you were free of this...cloak-and-dagger stuff, and now, you're right back in the thick of it."

She continued simply slicing tomatoes for the sandwiches, though he could almost detect the slightest hesitation in her work as if he'd hit a nerve.

"Of course, you and Jack have probably been missing the action. This is probably a welcome change from the monotony of "normal" life."

Sam put her knife down on the counter, trembling with emotion. "I know what you're trying to do, Daniel," she whispered.

"So, talk to me." He invited, gently.

She turned sad eyes to him as she shook her head. "I'm tired. I think I may be coming down with whatever Grace had this morning. Maybe you should finish this up, and I'll go take a rest."

Daniel sighed heavily before he nodded. He'd never seen Samantha Carter look so...broken. And given all that they'd dealt with over the years as a team and as friends, that was saying something.

* * *

Jack quietly knocked on his daughter's door before he gently pushed it open. "Mind if I come in?"

"I guess not," Grace said, her voice thick with tears.

He walked in, carefully closed the door, and sat on the edge of the bed. "You know, your mom isn't always as sure as she tries to make you think she is."

Grace didn't answer.

"You're not as different from her as you'd like everyone to believe." He said, affectionately. "Even if you do have curly brown hair and brown eyes."

Grace sighed. "She treats me like I'm just a little kid. I'm not a little kid." Her eyes grew sad. "I haven't been for a long time now."

Jack inhaled for a moment, almost wondering how to proceed, before he looked at her. "How old are you, Grace?"

Grace looked at him, quizzically.

"You're thirteen years old."

She nodded.

"Your mom was just a couple years older than you are when her mom died."

Grace rolled her eyes. She'd heard this a thousand times. She'd lost both her parents at an earlier age than her mother. How could she possibly understand?

"Don't roll your eyes at me," her father commanded, gently. "Just listen, okay?"

She sighed before she nodded.

"Fifteen years old. Grace, I'm over sixty years old. Fifteen years is only the first quarter of my life. Trust me when I say that fifteen is still very young."

"But..." She began.

"She didn't get the chance to have another mother, Grace," Jack said, softly. "Not like you. Not like Cassandra. She had to watch her mother's death break her family apart. She was still learning about herself and the world, and suddenly, she had to navigate it without her mother. Now, I know you think you're never going to want to talk to your mother, and that there's nothing you would ever do like she's done, but someday, that's going to change for you. Someday, you're going to recognize how much your mother protected your innocence. Someday, you're going to want her to teach you how to protect your children's innocence. Or you're going to want someone who's willing to come by in the middle of the night when you're sick, your husband's got to go to work first thing in the morning, and the baby won't stop crying."

Grace looked distinctly skeptical.

"I know you probably think she's more than a little crazy." He said, gently patting her knee. "But I know she's trying to do what's best for you."

"I know," she choked out a few moments later.

Jack reached over and hugged her tightly. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. You're a good kid, you're smart, and you're awfully sweet. Just...cut your mom a little slack, okay?"

She nodded, slowly. "Okay."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Grace."

"Love you too, Dad."

"Now, you're home from school because you're sick. Maybe you should take a nap." He said, pulling away.

Grace nodded. "It does sound good," she admitted.

"Sweet dreams," he wished as he walked out the door.

"I wish," Grace sighed to herself.

* * *

"Daniel said I could find you in here."

Sam turned from where she stood, looking out the window. "Did he?"

Jack nodded. "He said you'd be sleeping..."

"With federal agents in the house?" She asked, skeptically. "I don't think I'll be able to."

"That's kind of what I thought," Jack said with a shrug. "What's on your mind?"

"How's Grace?"

"She'll be okay." He said, honestly. "She's a little spooked, but I get the impression she's not the only one."

"Jacob's been awfully quiet," Sam agreed.

"I wasn't talking just about him."

Sam looked over at him, realizing at once that he was talking about her. "I'll be fine," she said, brushing his concern off.

"I know you will be." He said, nodding. "You always land on your feet. But how are you right now?"

She studied him for a long moment before she bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at the ground. "I guess I'm...nervous."

"Yeah, I guess that's not uncommon for someone who's been threatened by a United States Senator."

"We don't know for sure that it's the Senator," she said, looking away.

"We don't know for sure that it isn't." He persisted.

"We don't even know the Senator." She argued.

"But he might know us. Even if it is just by reputation."

She exhaled. "I told you already, Jack, I'm not scared for me."

"Well, I am." He said, plainly.

She noticed the sincerity in his eyes, and she managed a tearful smile. "What are we going to do, Jack? We're not investigators. We're not even active duty Air Force officers anymore. Maybourne is King on another planet, Barrett's in a Denver hospital – comatose...we don't have any authority to investigate this or anyone that we could really ask for a favor." She looked away as if in shame. "We're sitting ducks. It's only a matter of time before the threats are carried out with a simple car bomb or by beaming us up onto some ship so that they can torture us for information about old cases we worked and so that they can study our children like animals in cages." She swallowed down tears. "We don't even have a single gun in the house if something does come up."

Jack exhaled slowly before he reached over and pulled her toward him. "You're safe," he whispered as he wrapped his arms strongly around her. "I'm right here. You're safe with me."

He felt her trembling, and he just continued to hold her. "I've got you. You're safe. I'm here."

With each whispered reassurance, she felt herself relax more and more until finally, she broke down into a fit of tears about the injustice of it all.


	14. Questions

Grace lay in her bed. She was home sick from school for not sleeping. Her father had suggested that she rest, but her mind had steamrolled ahead. As usual.

What had happened in the kitchen? She asked herself as the gears in her mind turned. She had returned to each of those experiences as though she'd had the visions in the privacy of her bedroom. The physical pain of remembering, however, was completely new.

She rolled over and looked at the clock. She'd been in her room for an hour already, just staring up at the ceiling and thinking. She slipped out of bed, and walked over to the door. She stepped out of her room, to find her mother sitting on one of the kitchen barstools as she stared into a cup of coffee.

Grace smiled to herself. Daniel was here, she could tell. When Daniel wasn't around, coffee was over with by the time her mom went to work. Whenever Daniel came, coffee was served all day long.

"Hey," Grace said, walking up to her mom.

Sam managed a smile, touched with the worry she was trying to hide. "Hi, angel. Feeling better?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Good."

"How are you?" She asked, sitting beside her mother at the tall counter.

"I wasn't the one who was sick," she said, deflecting the question.

"That bad, huh?"

Sam sighed.

"I know what's going on," Grace said, quietly. "I overheard the agent when she said you weren't safe."

Sam exhaled, audibly. "I've been less safe than I am now. Between your father and those agents, no one's going to be able to get close enough to me to hurt me. And if they do, I'm perfectly qualified to protect myself."

"Then, why are you so worried?" Grace asked after a moment.

Sam turned to her daughter. "It's hard to explain."

"No. You don't want to explain," Grace said, her eyes hardening in frustration.

Sam sighed. "Grace, if I was still working with Daniel and Teal'c and Mitchell and Vala, I'd understand why I'm a target," she admitted. "I'd probably even expect it to some degree." She looked away for a moment. "But I haven't worked with them for a few years now. Not like I used to, anyway."

"You're afraid that we'll get hurt," Grace said, perceptively.

Sam tried to muster a brave smile. "Moms always worry that their kids will get hurt."

Grace opened her mouth to say something else, recognizing that her mother was being very vague in her answer, but something told her that pressing the issue would not be a good idea. Not when there was so much going on right now. Instead, she leaned over and hugged her mother.

"What was that for?" Sam asked, a more genuine smile on her lips.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, angel."

* * *

"I hear there's going to be a wicked game of Wii bowling," Cassandra greeted as she and Charlie were led down the stairs by Grace.

"Is there?" Sam asked with an amused smile as she looked over at the younger woman. "I thought we were gathering so that Jacob could recite "Cars" to us."

"The name's "Mater"," the five-year-old intoned. "As in "Tuh-may-ter", 'cept without the "tuh"."

"My apologies, Mr. Mater," Sam teased, winning chuckles from around the room.

"I want to do Wii bowling," Grace clarified, turning to the young couple. "But Jacob wants to watch "Cars"."

"Sounds like something for a simple vote," Jack piped up.

"Or we could watch "Cars" until Jacob has to go to bed, and then, we can do Wii bowling before Grace has to go to bed," Sam offered.

"That's a better idea," Jack admitted with a smile as he kissed his wife's cheek. "I married myself one wise woman."

"I want to Wii bowl too!" Jacob cried, instantly.

"Well, you don't have time to do both before bed," Sam said, turning to the little boy. "You'll have to choose one or the other."

"Wii bowling." Jacob said after a moment of careful thought.

"All right then," she said, turning to the rest of the group. "How does Wii bowling sound?"

"Great." Charlie said with a grin.

"Only because you beat me every time," Cassandra grumbled playfully as Charlie helped her get situated on the end of the couch. He sat down beside her, deftly pulling each of her legs up onto his own. She released an involuntary sigh of relief, winning a sympathetic smile from Sam.

"So," Jack began as he pulled out the controllers for the Wii from the entertainment center. "Anyone up for Wii bowling?"

Cassandra shook her head, her eyes closed as she relaxed there on the couch. "Not me. I'm just fine where I am."

Daniel chuckled. "I'm in."

"As am I." Teal'c said, nodding.

"Me too, me too!" Jacob cried, enthusiastically.

"I'll wait this one out," Charlie said with a smile.

"I'll play the winner," Sam piped up.

"You know you want to play," Jack said, offering his daughter the last controller.

She chuckled. "Sure."

"Excellent." He said with a grin as he passed off the controller. Then, he walked over to where his wife sat on the loveseat and wrapped an arm around her. He kissed her cheek before settling in more comfortably beside her.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, looking over at Cassandra as the game began.

"Big," Cassandra admitted. "I'm putting on some pretty significant weight, but my blood sugar levels are just fine."

"Every woman is different," Sam said, knowingly.

"I know," she said with a small sigh. "I just wish that my illness at fifteen didn't make ultrasounds and other scans so...inaccurate."

Sam nodded, thoughtfully.

Charlie leaned over and kissed his wife's temple before he settled back and patted her leg, supportively.

Grace looked over at her sister-in-law for a moment before she was blinded by pain and fell to her knees.

"Grace!" Cassandra cried, hurrying into action.

As the doctor reached her and touched her shoulder, a vision appeared before the young woman.

_Sam walked into the house as Jack and the kids were having breakfast._

"_Well?" Jack asked as they all looked over at her._

"_Cassandra had twins." She said with a small smile. "Janet and Fraiser O'Neill. And they're beautiful."_

Both of her parents helped her to lay on the floor, more comfortably.

"_Happy birthday, Jack," Sam said, opening the garage door to reveal a vintage Corvette._

Instantly, the scene changed to a hospital room.

_She looked up from the hospital bed. "I want to go home. I want to go to the cabin."_

"_There's plenty of time for that, Sam."_

_Her eyes grew sad. "Jack, take me home," she whispered as a single tear slipped down her cheek._

Grace felt strength leave her little by little as the visions passed and she looked up at Cassandra. "It's twins..." She managed before she slipped into unconsciousness.


	15. Answers

Now dressed in a lab coat, Cassandra stepped out of the Academy Hospital ER exam room with a sigh as she walked toward Sam and Jack and their NID escort.

"What is it?" Sam asked, worriedly.

Cassandra bit her lip. "I wish I knew."

"It's got to be something," Jack said, soberly.

"No fever or anything suggesting any sort of an infection...in fact, she seems to be back to "normal"," she said, using air quote marks. "I've ordered a brain scan for tomorrow morning, but until then, I'd have to say she's fine."

Sam exhaled, worriedly.

"Why did you order an brain scan?" Jack asked, curiously.

Cassandra tried to seem somewhat nonchalant. "I'm just trying to cover all my bases. Headaches are usually nothing to worry about, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"You think it's a tumor or something," Sam said, studying the doctor closely. "Like with Jonas."

Cassandra sighed. "There's been a lot of medical research into the psychic phenomena. Grace isn't the first person to claim to see future events, and since I found out about her dreams, I started looking into medical research."

"And?" Jack prompted.

"Well, first of all, I don't have enough information about Grace's unique case to say anything for sure. Some of these so-called psychics have always had this gift, for some it's been a fairly recent development after a near-fatal car accident or something like that."

Sam shook her head. "Grace had these dreams before her parents' accident. And she wasn't even in the car when they were killed."

"I wasn't suggesting that was the case with Grace," she soothed. "I'm just filling you in on what I learned. I mean, the Ori priors exhibited psychic abilities, but they weren't part of some organic evolutionary process. It was thrust on them."

"Some might say gifted to them," Sam said, nodding. "But yes...we get your point."

"How much do you know about Grace's life before she was adopted?" Cassandra asked, curiously.

"Not much." Sam admitted. "Why?"

"It's possible that while we try to dig into what happened today, we might learn some things that we might not want to know or that we might not want other people to know," Cassandra admitted. "But if I'm going to help her, I need to know it."

The O'Neills nodded.

"I want to run some of the same tests we ran on Jacob when he was born."

"Why?" Sam asked, curiously.

"Because I've been looking through her medical history." Cassandra said, soberly. "And I'll be honest, there are some things that don't exactly match up."

"Like what?" Sam asked, concerned.

"According to her medical history, Grace broke her arm when she was three."

The O'Neills each raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"But last summer when Grace came in with a sprain on the same side, there was no evidence of any connective callous which would have formed at the time of healing."

"That doesn't prove anything," Jack pointed out.

"No." Cassandra said, shaking her head. "But there are other indicators of things that don't add up."

"Like?"

"Do you remember when she was nine, and you brought her in because she'd had some sort of cold that had lasted about two weeks?"

Jack nodded. "She sounded like she was a chronic smoker when she coughed. It worried us."

"I ordered a chest x-ray, and I prescribed antibiotics."

Sam nodded, affirmatively.

"The x-rays confirmed that she had pneumonia." Cassandra said, earnestly. "One week later, she wasn't coughing at all."

"So? She heals quickly."

"Abnormally quickly, Jack." Cassandra said, seriously. "She hadn't even finished her antibiotic treatment when she was entirely free of the symptoms. I ordered another x-ray, and it was almost as if the pneumonia had been in my imagination. Again, there was no scar tissue. And then, there was the time she split her lip open after slipping on the ice and hitting her lip on the sidewalk. She should have a scar based on the depth of the cut, but she doesn't. Should I continue?"

"What are you saying?" Sam asked, worriedly.

"I'm saying that there's a rather serious possibility that Grace is either an evolutionary miracle or..."

"She's an Ancient." Jack said, looking at his wife.

Cassandra swallowed, letting the implication sink in. "I don't think we need to keep her for observation. Take her home, let her get some rest, and come back in the morning for the scan."

They nodded.

"Dr. O'Neill, you have a phone call." The intercom blared.

Cassandra turned back to the worried couple, trying to muster a comforting smile. "I'll be right back. Until then, you can visit Grace if you'd like."

They nodded as she hurried off.

Sam bit her lip as she looked over at her husband. "We should have seen this coming," she whispered.

Jack nodded. "You did tell me that you thought she might be an Ancient."

"And you made a good point that she probably wouldn't be safe if we ever knew for sure." Sam said, shaking her head.

"Who knew it would affect her health." He said, swallowing.

Sam inhaled before she led the way inside the small hospital room. "Hi, angel," she greeted, upon seeing her daughter awake.

"Hi, mom. Hi, dad." She said, quietly.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" Jack asked as he walked over to his daughter's bedside.

She shrugged. "I'm okay."

"You sure?" Sam asked, sitting on the side of the bed. She gently brushed away a strand of hair that had slipped into her daughter's face.

Grace nodded.

"So...did you have a vision before you collapsed?" Sam asked, softly.

"I guess." Grace said, almost unsure. "All I remember is seeing...images. Something about babies, a Corvette, and...a hospital room."

"The 'Vette used to be so cool." Jack said, inserting his unique brand of humor into the conversation.

Grace chuckled softly, and Sam turned a knowing smile to him. Then, Grace turned to her mother. "I think...I think I saw you. In the hospital."

Sam tensed, remembering the threats against her life.

"But...you were sick. Not hurt." Grace looked over at her dad. "And you were older." She turned back to her mother. "I think you're going to be okay."

Sam exchanged a look with her husband, almost surprised by how much Grace seemed to know.

"What did you see just before you passed out?" Sam asked, gently.

"You...you were asking Dad to take you home. To take you to the cabin." She looked at her father. "I think you wanted her to think she'd be okay, but I think you both knew that she wouldn't be."

Sam inhaled, tensing her shoulders and her upper body as she did so.

"Then, I looked up at Cassandra, and I said something about twins, and I don't remember after that."

"Have you been having a lot of visions lately?" Jack asked, gently probing for more information.

"That girl...that I said I saw on the news..." She turned to her mother. "I had a vision. She and her boyfriend were shot. Then, I saw these agents outside Senator Hamilton's house...they were killed."

"Oh, angel," Sam said, sympathetically.

"Are they going to let me out of here?" Grace asked, ignoring her mother's sympathy.

"Yeah." Jack said, nodding. "Cassandra wants to run some tests and some scans tomorrow, but until then, she wants you to get some rest at home."

Grace nodded. "Well, I'm all about going home," she said, preparing to leave her bed.

"Are you sure you should get up?" Sam fretted.

"I feel fine, Mom. Not even a..." Grace faltered as she started to stand, and her father caught her.

He raised an eyebrow as he helped her back to bed. "You were saying?"

"Maybe I should wait until you sign the release forms," she said, sheepishly.

"You take after your father more than you realize," Sam said with a small chuckle.

"Hey now..."

"I seem to recall Teal'c telling a story about one time that Dr. Fraiser said it would be "unwise" for you to get out of bed, and you fell flat on your face."

"Don't even talk about that time," Jack said, shaking his head. "Because you were out longer than I was."

"I'm smaller than you, so I'd absorbed a higher percentage of the crystal skull's radiation than you did. And, I think Daniel said, you carried me out, so I had also collapsed before you did."

"Story?" Grace asked, looking at her parents in confusion.

They managed sheepish smiles of their own. "Technically...classified..."

"Of course it is."

"Sam turned to her husband. "And...I never disregarded Janet's instructions as often or as severely as you did."

Jack shrugged his shoulders as if he was proud of the accomplishment.

"I'll go get Grace's discharge papers," Sam said, shaking her head in amusement.

"We'll be waiting," Jack teased, affectionately.

Grace watched her mother go with a sad look in her eye.

"Hey," Jack said, turning to his daughter. "What is it?"

"I wish I knew more. Something I could do to help." She said with a small sigh. "All I can say is that she lives long enough to die of something else...stuck in a hospital."

"You don't ever have to apologize for your visions, Grace," Jack said, earnestly. "And you don't ever have to feel like you should have been able to help more."

She turned doubtful eyes to him.

"Your mom and I worked with a guy for a year. His name was Jonas, and one of our captors changed his DNA a bit. He developed the ability to see into the future."

Grace raised an eyebrow.

"He saw a vision of your mom getting hurt. He thought it was a staff blast, and so we left her behind to finish some work at the SGC."

"And?"

"She was hurt. Exactly as Jonas saw. It wasn't a staff blast wound, it was an electrical burn." Jack sighed. "Your mom isn't as skeptical about these things as she used to be, but she's still pretty married to her understanding of quantum physics." Jack paused for a moment. "Which...don't include any real possibility to predict the future. Only possible outcomes."

"The future is what you make of it?" Grace clarified.

Jack nodded. "But when she was on Atlantis, she met a seer. Someone who could do what you do...only...differently. He actually showed your mom something."

"What?"

"Atlantis being destroyed." Jack said, soberly. "Completely annihilated. But there was no timeline. No contextual clues. Much like your vision about her being sick."

Grace nodded, pensively.

"It may seem like your mother is running headfirst into the very situations that you're trying to shield her from, but usually, she's just trying to make a value judgment."

"The gain outweighs the risk?"

Jack nodded. "Do you remember when your mom was expecting Jacob and you told her about the Titans?"

Grace nodded.

"She felt pretty strongly than she needed to be the one to carry out the plan that she had formed in her mind after hearing your description of what happened." He said, soberly. "I'm not sure it was the best thing to do at the time, and honestly, I had a few words with her about what she could have done better, but as a general rule, I trust your mother's instincts." His eyes took on a faraway gaze. "They've saved my life more than a few times."

Grace inhaled. "I...I dreamed about that phone call Agent Barrett got. I saw him leave to come here."

"You were afraid that by knowing about what might happen in the future, we'd make things worse."

Grace hung her head in shame.

"It's a position your mom's held more than a few times."

Grace's head snapped up in surprise.

"Except that was usually when we went back in time..." Jack said, shrugging. "Something about the...grandfather paradox or something..."

"You are officially discharged," Sam announced as she returned to the room. She noticed the feeling of the room, and she looked over at her husband somewhat concerned. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

Sam turned to her daughter. "Grace?"

"Nothing." She said, looking away instantly. She slipped out of bed, more careful this time. "I'm going to get dressed, and then, I'll be ready to go."

Sam sighed as she watched her daughter duck into the small bathroom off to the side of the room. Her husband approached her, solemnly. "Maybe...you were right about the therapy thing." He said, quietly.

She looked at him in surprise.

"With these visions...especially ones where people are dying...she could probably use someone to talk to. Someone that won't judge the visions as intelligence that we might need to act on. Like you and I might."

Sam nodded slowly. "I think you're absolutely right." She said, softly.

"Are you okay?" He asked, quietly.

'I will be." She shrugged. "It's just been a long day."

Jack nodded. "Maybe we should all take the day off tomorrow. I mean, we do have federal agents guarding us, and I'm not sure I'd want have to explain that situation to anyone."

"And I'm not sure how I feel about letting one of our agents watch me try to upgrade something that is clearly not upgradable," she said with a small sigh.

"Then, it's official." He said with a thin smile.

"Official," she agreed as Grace reappeared. "Let's go."


	16. Ride Home

"Grace?" Sam began as they drove back to their home in the suburbs of Colorado Springs.

"Yes, mom?"

"How much do you remember about your life before you were adopted?"

"Um..." The teenager began, surprised.

"Do you remember your parents? Your foster parents?"

"Why are you asking?"

Sam sighed softly. "Just wondering."

They fell into an uneasy silence as Grace began thinking about her family. What did she remember?

There was a woman. A lovely woman with soft, curly brown hair who would sing to her a familiar lullaby when she had a nightmare.

She grimaced as she remembered for the first time in a long time the nightmare she'd had before her parents' accident.

Without thinking about it, she began to hum the lullaby.

Sam and Jack exchanged confused looks.

"Grace, angel," Sam began, slowly. "I've never heard that song. Can you sing it for me? It sounds lovely."

Grace leaned against the window as she watched the beautiful landscape slip by. The words slipped out of her mouth as she sang the son, and Sam turned back to look at the young woman in absolute surprise. "Grace, I want you to sing that song for Daniel when we get home, okay?"

Grace didn't answer, just looked out again at the cold ground that she and her parents were passing quickly on their way home. She closed her eyes for a moment. Cassandra had told her that she'd given her a light sedative. Something to help her sleep when she got home, and she could feel her eyelids grow heavy as they prepared for their night-long rest.

"_Wake up," a warm, feminine voice urged, anxiously._

_Her eyes slipped open. The world was so much bigger than it had been when she'd first closed her eyes in her parents' car. She viewed the face of the blond woman dressed in white who had woken her. Her blue eyes seemed so familiar, and yet so unfamiliar. "Who are you?"_

"_You don't have to worry about who I am," she whispered as she gently brushed a few unruly strands of her hair from her eyes. "I've come to take you away."_

"_Away from what?"_

_The woman looked around with a sad look in her eyes. She let her gaze follow the other woman's eyes. There was nothing around her. Nothing but unkept fields of wheat and corn._

"_Where is everyone?"_

"_I don't know, angel," she whispered, apologetically. "But I'm going to take you to a place where you are going to be loved and cared for."_

"_How?"_

_She opened her arms. "Come," she commanded gently. She was enfolded into the woman's embrace and covered with her white robes._

_Then, she awoke in a hospital bed._

"_How are you feeling, honey?" Her foster mother asked, worriedly._

"_What happened?" She asked, her head swimming in confusion._

"_You fell and broke your arm," she said, softly. "The doctor gave you something to help it not hurt, and then, you fell asleep."_

_Grace looked over at her arm. It was covered in a heavy cast, and her brow furrowed. Another figure appeared in the room._

"_I'm getting everything ready for you, angel," the blond woman with smiling eyes said, softly. "Just a little while longer, okay?"_

_She looked at her foster mother, who didn't react to the woman's words._

"_She can't see me, Grace," the woman said, soberly. "Only you can see me."_

"_Who are you?" She asked again._

"_Someday, you'll call me Grandma," she said, taking a few steps toward her. She leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I promise, I'll make sure you have everything you need, angel." Then, she disappeared._

"_Grace?" Her foster mother asked, looking over at the vacant spot in the room. "Who are you talking to?"_

_Grace swallowed. "Grandma."_

"We're home."

The soft whisper of her mother's voice woke her gently, and she looked up into blue eyes that were identical to the ones of the woman who had taken her from that empty place to her foster family. "Mom." She said as she looked at her mother.

"Hi, angel," Sam said with a small smile as she brushed away an errant strand of hair from her face. " Let's get you inside so you can get some rest, hm?"

"Tell me about Grandma."

Sam paused for a moment. "What?"

"Tell me about your mom." She pressed again.

"Maybe tomorrow." Sam said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Please, Mom," she whispered, desperately. "I have to..."

"General Carter?"

Sam flinched as the special agent interrupted her talk with her daughter. "Be there in a minute, Agent Bauer." She turned back to her daughter. "Can we talk in the morning?"

Grace sighed before she nodded. "Yes."

Sam leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I love you, angel." Then, she turned back to the special agent. "Yes?"

"Agent Barrett is awake. He wants to see you as soon as possible."

* * *

Grace walked into the house as her parents were shuffled into one of the Suburbans by two of the agents.

"How do you fare, Grace O'Neill?"

She looked up at Teal'c with a small sigh. "Nothing showed up so far, and strangely enough, I feel just fine. A little tired, but fine."

"You should rest," the Jaffa said, wisely.

"Mom said I have to sing something for Daniel first."

The archaeologist's ears perked up at the sound of his name. "Huh?"

Grace walked over to where he sat at the dining room table. "Mom heard me singing, and she wanted me to sing the words for you."

"Okay." He said, giving her his full attention.

She inhaled before she began singing, and instantly the archaeologist's eyes widened in surprise.

"What is it?" She asked, somewhat irritably as she finished her alien song.

"I..." He began. "Can you just speak the words this time?"

She rolled her eyes as he got out his ever-present journal and jotted down the lyrics. "Thanks." He said, turning a grateful smile to her.

"What is it?" She asked with a small sigh.

"The song you just sang," he said, looking up at her. "Do you know what it means?"

She thought for a moment before she nodded. "Hush, hush," she recited. "Your mother is here. Nothing can harm you when she is so near. Sleep, sleep, please close your eyes, and wait for the sunbeams to light up the skies."

Daniel was writing furiously in his journal.

"What is it?" She demanded, soberly.

Daniel paused for a moment. He eyed the NID agents somewhat warily before he turned to her. "Not now. Later, I promise. But not now."

Grace sighed as she looked between Teal'c and Daniel. "I'm going to bed."

"That would be a wise decision," Teal'c agreed as he watched her leave.

Daniel turned to Teal'c. "That little girl has no idea what she's just given me."

* * *

The ride to the Denver hospital where Malcolm Barrett was being treated was quiet, but Sam didn't notice. Instead, she thought about her daughter's request. "Tell me about Grandma...Tell me about your mom."

She had memories of her mother. She must have memories of her mother. But her mother had died more than thirty years before, and as her husband delighted in reminding her periodically, the memory was the first to go when one aged. She smiled to herself as she looked over at him. And with his experience with the Argosian nanites, he would know.

Her husband turned a small, but somewhat inquisitive glance toward her, and she just squeezed his hand with a reassuring smile as the special agents drove them down the interstate.

Then, almost without warning, she remembered that frilly pink dress she'd been thrust into when she was about five years old. She had detested that dress with every fiber of her being and almost everything that it represented.

"_Samantha, stop fidgeting."_

"_I don't wanna wear a dress, Mama!"_

"_I know, angel, but it won't be long. We'll go to church, and then, when we come home, you can change into your jeans again. How's that?"_

"_I don't like church," she pouted as she crossed her arms across her chest._

_Her mother knelt down in front of her. "What has God done for you today?" She asked, her blue eyes looking at her kindly._

"_Nothing."_

"_Now, Samantha," her mother contradicted, gently. "He gave you the air you're breathing."_

_She inhaled loudly and proceeded to hold her breath. She only managed to keep it up for a few moments before she exhaled, and had to inhale again. Her little face seemed clearly upset by the idea that she hadn't been able to choose whether or not to breathe._

"_And how about the nice, warm sun outside?"_

_Her pout deepened, recognizing that her mother was right about that one too._

"_And that's just some of the things he's done for you today."_

_She heaved a heavy sigh._

"_I'll tell you a secret," she leaned in and whispered. "I'm grateful that your daddy is home safe, and that you and your brother are healthy. And do you know what I do because I'm so grateful for those things?"_

_She shook her head._

"_I go to church because it's one of the only thing He asks me to do."_

_Sam's shoulders slumped forward in defeat. "Okay, okay...I'll go."_

"Sam? You okay?"

She turned at the sound of her husband's voice and nodded. "Fine."

"You sure? You seemed a little...pensive."

She managed a thin smile. "I am," she admitted. "Grace wants to learn about my mother."

"Ah." He said with sudden clarity. "And?"

"I said she and I would talk tomorrow."

He nodded.

"I don't even know why she wants to know," she said after a moment.

"Maybe that's one of the questions you could ask her," he said, simply.

She nodded, slowly, as they pulled into the Denver hospital parking lot.

"Are you ready for this?"

Sam sighed, softly. "I'll have to be," she said as the agents opened the Suburban doors for them.

They walked into the building with their burly escorts, and it was only a few moments before they were led to Malcolm Barrett's room.

"Sam," he murmured from where he lay deathly pale against the white hospital sheets.

"Malcolm," she said, warmly, as she walked over to him. "Nice to see you. I hear you had quite an accident."

"Not an accident," he protested, shaking his head. "My brake lines were cut."

Sam tensed, involuntarily.

"Sam, I already spoke to Cynthia about this, but there's no way Hamilton's involved in the threats against you."

Sam's eyebrow raised instantly. "But I thought..."

"The caller said that they wanted the tapes for your safety. Hamilton's guys would know that we don't have the tapes anymore. They were destroyed when they killed my agents."

Sam turned a worried look to her husband. "If it's not the Senator, then who?"

"That's my job to find out." Barrett said, soberly.


	17. Afraid

Daniel looked up as the front door opened to find Sam and Jack looking worn and exhausted.

"How's Barrett?"

Sam managed a thin, but worried, smile. "He's a trooper, you know? He'll be fine."

Daniel looked at Jack for confirmation, but the retired general just shook his head as if telling his old friend that asking more questions would be an unwise decision.

"How are you?"

She eyed the agents stationed around the house somewhat warily. "I'm fine," she lied.

Daniel looked at Jack again, and he won the same reaction.

"How about a cup of coffee?" Daniel offered, attempting to ease the tension a little.

Sam chuckled softly at the archaeologist's offer. "Sure."

Daniel looked up at Jack, who nodded more soberly. Internally, he sighed. Both of his friends looked emotionally spent from all of the worry and confusion of the past twenty-four hours – not to mention Sam's perpetual fear that someone or something would hear about her children's abilities and do something to harm them.

They walked slowly into the kitchen where Daniel proceeded to start yet another pot of coffee. "I'll bring some coffee beans by," he said, apologetically. "I'm afraid I've been drinking this like water."

"Don't worry about it," Sam said, shaking her head. "We expect that when you come you'll drink a fair amount of coffee. Especially when the circumstances are such as they are."

"Did Cassandra make it back all right?" Jack asked after a moment.

Daniel nodded. "She was tired, so I think they decided to turn in a little early."

"Good," Sam murmured in approval. "If Grace is right about the twins, she's going to need easy."

Jack nodded in agreement.

"Speaking of Grace," Daniel began as the coffee began dribbling into the pot.

Almost instantly, both O'Neills tensed as if waiting for bad news.

"She's fine," Daniel assured. "I just was going to ask you about the song she came in and sang to me."

They both released sighs of relief before Sam nodded. "What about it?"

"Where did she hear it?" He asked, curiously.

"Presumably from her birth mother," Sam said, shrugging. "Or, I suppose, it could have come from her foster mother, but that seems far less plausible."

"Then, you recognized the language she was singing too."

"It sounded familiar," Sam clarified, all too aware of the agents in the dining room.

"It should." Daniel said, nodding, as he retrieved his notebook. Quickly he turned the page, and wrote a message which he turned to the O'Neills.

_It's a dialect of Ancient that I've never heard before._

"Where was she born?" Daniel asked, returning the notebook to its place on the kitchen table.

"Your guess is as good as ours," Jack said, shrugging.

"Her foster parents don't even really know." Sam said, shaking her head. "Her birth certificate says Richmond, Virginia, but I'm not so sure."

"Well, if she was, it would bring a whole new meaning to the term illegal alien," Daniel quipped.

Sam's brow furrowed. "But how would someone be able to get here without us knowing?" She whispered, instantly. "I mean, the only way on or off this planet has been guarded since the early 1900s."

"I don't know, we managed to sneak in and out pretty easily in '69."

"We were a small team trained in stealth tactics. And, if you remember, we went through too fast, and had to be sent back." She said, cryptically. "I don't imagine that a person, or a group of people, could have come that way without someone noticing something."

"There are other ways they could have come," Jack said, looking at his wife.

She turned to him, and they looked at each other for a moment before she nodded. "I suppose that's possible, but again...I have to ask when and why didn't anyone notice?"

"Well, there were more than a few people who were able to come here without us seeing them," Daniel said, honestly. "The Ree'tou."

"The Asgard." Jack added.

"Nirrti." Daniel returned.

"I get the point," Sam interrupted.

"And if she is Ancient," Jack whispered. "Who's to say they couldn't have had a puddlejumper that they cloaked."

Sam shook her head. "The Ancients ascended a long time ago."

"Some of them," Daniel corrected. "Who's to say some people didn't try to "come home" so to speak?"

"I guess there are a lot of possibilities," Sam said with a small sigh. "I just wish we could know something definitive."

Jack and Daniel both joined in her sigh, and Sam turned to her friend. "Daniel, why don't you go home?" She said after a moment. "We're going to be fine here, and I'm sure Vala and Nicole would love to have you there."

Daniel managed a grateful smile. "That would be nice..."

"Go on then," Jack said, nudging his friend toward the door.

He shook his head. "Vala would kill me if I headed home and you weren't completely in the clear."

"Then, tell her that I insisted, and that I expect you here first thing in the morning," Sam said with a dim twinkle in her eyes.

Daniel smiled. "Okay, okay."

Sam grew more sober as she studied her friend. "Daniel?"

"Hm?"

"Take care of your family. Chances are if someone from the Trust is after me and Jack, it's only a matter of time before you and Vala are next."

Daniel nodded soberly.

She leaned in to hug him and kissed his cheek. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow." He nodded before he headed out the door. Sam looked at her husband. "We should probably head to bed ourselves," she said with a small sigh. "It's been a long day."

He nodded. They walked silently to the bedroom, closed the door, and proceeded to change into their pajamas. Within moments, they were lying on the bed together with Jack's arm wrapped around Sam's shoulder and her ear to his chest as she listened to his steady heartbeat and felt his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"Jack?" She asked after a few moments.

"Hm?"

"If something happens..."

"It won't."

"I know," she soothed. "But in case it does..."

"It won't." He repeated.

She paused for a moment, almost afraid to voice her fears. "You don't know that, Jack."

"Don't."

"But..."

"We did this dance when you went off on the _George Hammond_." Her husband said, matter-of-factly. "I'm not going to do it again."

Sam fell silent as tears slipped down her cheeks and onto her husband's shirt. She waited for a few moments. "It would be different if I was deploying." She said, softly. "Whenever I put on my uniform, I knew that it might be for the last time. It didn't matter why I was wearing it or what I would be doing when I left the dressing room. I knew there was a possibility I might not come back."

Jack didn't say anything, and Sam was only marginally sure that he was still awake. His breathing hadn't deepened the way it normally did when he was sleeping.

"I'm not afraid of dying," she said, quietly. "To do our jobs, you can't be."

"But?" Jack prompted after a few moments.

"I guess I thought when I put my uniform away that the danger would go with it." She managed with a shaky voice.

He kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer. "God, I wish that were true." He breathed, allowing her to hear the fear in his own trembling voice.


	18. Assumptions

"So..."

Charlie looked at his wife. "So...what?"

"Are you telling me that in everything that's happened, you don't remember what Grace said before she passed out?"

"No." He said with a tiny smile.

"Twins." She said, shaking her head. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"I guess it would make sense." She said, biting her lip somewhat nervously. "All of the anomalies that I thought were just a part of my...genetic abnormality...well, I guess they're not anomalies at all. At least, not in the general sense."

"My little alien," he teased, affectionately, as he kissed her temple.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, playfully.

They fell into companionable silence before Charlie sighed. "What's the deal with Grace?"

"Charlie..."

"I know, I know...doctor-patient confidentiality." He said, shaking away her protests. "She's my sister, Cassandra."

She sighed softly. "It could be any number of things."

"Worst case scenario?"

She bit her lip, looking over at him. "Brain tumor," she admitted. "Interfering with any number of her higher brain functions: cognition, vision, hearing...I won't know until we get her in for some tests just what's being affected by the tumor." She swallowed. "Assuming, of course, that there is a tumor."

"Quite an assumption," he said, quietly.

She bit her lip, nervously. "I can't think of any other reason that she would have blacked out after having a vision."

"What if she saw more than just the twins?" He asked softly. "I talked to her a few days ago, and she told me that she's seeing her visions from the perspective of someone in the scene."

"With a physiological response to what was happening to the person whose eyes she was seeing the seen through?" Cassandra asked, thoughtfully.

"It's just an idea."

"It's not a bad one," she admitted. "I need to talk to her."

She moved to get out of bed, but his strong arm held her back. "Let her rest, hon. She's had a long and exciting day. So have you."

"You've got a point," she said, managing a thin smile.

He pulled her closer as he kissed her forehead. "Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day with another set of challenges to be overcome."

"You're so wise," she teased, affectionately.

* * *

"Grace," a soft voice called. "Grace..."

She opened her eyes to find the blond-haired woman standing in front of her, still dressed in a flowing white robe.

"It's you." She said with a strangely quiet calmness. "You're the one who brought me here. You're the reason I'm on Earth."

The woman didn't answer.

"You're my grandmother. My mom's mom, aren't you? The one who died when she was fifteen."

Again, the woman was silent.

"Why? Why are you here? Are you giving me these visions? What are you trying to tell me?"

"I told you that I would always give you everything you need." She said, quietly. "I've never broken my promise."

"Then, why am I seeing all of this death?" She demanded, tears running down her cheeks. "How could I possibly need that?"

"Think beyond the death," the woman said, sagely.

"Think beyond the death?" Grace asked, incredulously. "Are you saying death is immaterial? If that was the case, I wouldn't be getting these visions, right?"

"Let go of what you're holding onto."

"This isn't helpful." Grace said, her head swimming as she tried to follow the woman's logic.

"You have some assumptions that are blocking your vision." She said, more clearly. "You need to let go of them. You need to let go of your assumptions and talk to your parents."

"But..."

"They'll know what to do." She assured.

Grace managed a fearful smile.

"You're not alone. Remind your mother of that for me, okay?"

Grace swallowed as she nodded.

"I love you, angel. I didn't bring you here so you would be miserable. I brought you here so you would be happy. So that you would be taken care of. And I brought you here so Samantha would have the family she was always afraid to have."

"How will she know the message is from you?"

"Ask her what I told her when she was telling me about you," the woman said with a tender smile. "Tell her what I told you about bringing you here."

"Is everything going to be okay?" Grace asked, her lip trembling.

"That's up to you." She said, soberly. "But you're not alone, Grace. You're not alone."

Grace's eyes fluttered open, and she looked around, unable to see the woman anymore. She slipped out of her bedroom and into the living room, where she stood in front of the fireplace and looked at the pictures her mother had on the mantle. Sure enough, there was the blond woman with the twinkling blue eyes in a picture beside a man who was balding, but whose eyes were radiant with joy as well. Sitting on the floor in front of them were two children, a boy and a girl, who were smiling widely as well. It was the Carter family portrait from the year Grace's mother had turned twelve.

"I'm not alone," she whispered to herself. "We're not alone."

_

* * *

_

The sound of the master bedroom door opening caused both of the O'Neills to awaken instantly. The soft sound of muffled footsteps coming across the floor told them it was probably one of the children.

"Grace?" Jack asked in the darkness.

"Dad. I didn't know you would be awake."

He turned on a light before he and Sam sat up.

"What is it, angel?" Sam asked, looking over at her daughter as she patted the bed, invitingly.

Grace inhaled before she handed her mother the photo from the mantle. "She brought me here." She said, pointing to the adult woman in the photograph.

Sam tensed, slightly. "Brought you where?"

"To Earth. To you."

Sam exchanged a look with her husband before she turned to her daughter. "Grace..."

"She told me to tell you that she brought me here so that I would be happy and taken care of. She said that she brought me here so that you could have the family you were always afraid to have."

Sam flinched at the directness of her words.

"Grace, it's not that we don't believe you," Jack began.

She threw a look in her father's direction before she turned back to her mother. "She said she told you that she brought me here."

Sam's brow furrowed for a moment as she thought before her eyebrows shot up. She turned to look at her husband. "She's right about that."

Jack raised his eyebrow. "Really?"

She nodded. "Do you remember the first nightmare Grace had when she was here with us?"

"Yeah. That was the night you fell asleep in her bed, and got sick the next morning..."

"Exactly." She nodded. "Now, before I fell asleep, I was..." She swallowed. "I was talking to my mom. I told her that she'd like Grace, and..." She shrugged. "I guess I thought she said something about why she'd sent Grace to me."

She turned back to Grace. "You couldn't have known about that. You were sound asleep."

"I told you," she said with a sigh. "Grandma told me."

Sam bit her lip, skeptically. "Grace..."

"I told her that you wouldn't believe me."

"It's a little far-fetched." Sam admitted.

"Because you don't really believe in angels."

Sam swallowed as she looked at her daughter. "Grace..."

"Look, she promised me something when she brought me to my foster family." Grace said, slowly. "She said I would always have what I need when I need it. And ever since, I've had these visions."

"Are you saying your grandmother is your guardian angel and that she gave you these visions?" Jack asked, confused.

Grace swallowed before she nodded.

"My mother didn't ascend." Sam said, shaking her head.

"Maybe there's something else out there besides ascension." Grace said, slowly.

"I know there's something out there besides ascension," Sam said, tiredly. "I just..."

"This was a mistake." Grace said, standing. She walked back to the door before she turned around. "Grandma said that you need to challenge your assumptions. Maybe this is one of those assumptions."

Sam watched Grace leave before turning to her husband. "That's what my mother said to me any time I was working on a science project, and I was confused." She swallowed. "There's absolutely no way she could have known that."

"What assumptions was she talking about?" Jack asked, looking over at her. "Besides...of course...the whole ascension thing..."

"I don't know." She said, shaking her head. "Something to do with Grace's visions, maybe?"

Jack looked at his wife, the wheels turning in his head. "What were the exact words of that phone call that Barrett got?"

"I don't know." She said, shaking her head.

"Maybe that's one of those assumptions..."

"What kind of assumption?" She asked, skeptically.

"Maybe...they weren't too clear with the threat. Maybe it wasn't exactly a threat against your life."

"What else could it be?" She asked, confused.

"I'd like to find out." He said, honestly.


	19. Breakfast

The sunlight had barely begun to stream through the window shades of Jacob O'Neill's bedroom before he shot up out of bed. He looked over to his right with a grin. There, on an air mattress beside him, lay the gigantic Teal'c, the bestest buddy a nearly six-year-old boy could have in this world.

He was careful to be quiet as he positioned himself on the bed in just such a way so that he could pounce on the sleeping Jaffa without getting caught.

Certain that he had made the necessary preparations for a flawlessly executed leap onto the Jaffa's back, Jacob snapped his legs straight, springing him onto the Jaffa. Before he knew what had happened, however, he was caught by the waist and pulled underneath the giant as he arose. Jacob landed on the air mattress as Teal'c stood with one arm loosely pressed against the child's adam's apple and the other hand pinning him to the mattress effortlessly.

"Aw man!" Jacob cried in disappointment.

Teal'c smiled as he pulled away from the young man. "Your skills have greatly improved, Jacob O'Neill." He said, proudly. "But you must be careful of using your mattress as a launchpad. The springs make enough noise to alert an entire army to your presence."

Jacob sighed softly before he scrambled upright. "Can we make breakfast, Mr. T? Can we? Can we?"

"Indeed," Teal'c said, nodding.

"Yes!" Jacob cried, enthusiastically.

"Perhaps this would be a time to practice one's stealth tactics," Teal'c intoned, quietly.

Jacob nodded, enthusiastically, unaware that the Jaffa's true purpose in quieting the boy was to keep him from waking the entire household from their rest as he had been awoken.

Teal'c walked quietly over to the corner of Jacob's closet before he poked his head around the corner so that he could see if the way was clear. Jacob followed, closely, mirroring the Jaffa's every move. Teal'c then opened the door just a crack so that he could monitor the goings-on outside the door. Jacob did the same just underneath the Jaffa.

Finally, they walked, carefully out into the corridor that would lead them to the kitchen. Teal'c caught Jacob's eyes and flashed some of the military hand signals he'd learned over the last few years on Earth toward him. Jacob nodded, soberly, having received tutelage in the meanings of the hand signals only the night before.

They got to the kitchen, but their mission was not yet finished. They scoped around the room carefully before Teal'c relaxed. "We are alone, Jacob O'Neill." He said in his deep bass voice.

Jacob nodded his agreement, soberly.

"What is this?" Sam asked as she walked out of the bedroom, having heard the tiniest bit of commotion from the kitchen.

Jacob sighed. "Great. Strike two!"

Sam's brow furrowed as she turned to Teal'c.

"I was teaching young Jacob O'Neill the art of stealth."

"Ah." Sam said in instant understanding. "Well, how about I pretend I didn't see you, hm?"

"It's too late for that, Mommy." Jacob said, rolling his eyes.

"In that case, why don't I make you two soldiers some pancakes? Being stealthy is a great way to build up a strong appetite."

"Jacob O'Neill and I have kitchen duty," Teal'c said, soberly.

"Oh," Sam said, nodding. "Well, in that case, I'd better let you two get to it. Wouldn't want the General to find you slacking off."

"No, ma'am," Jacob said, shaking his head, as he stood in rigid attention.

Sam tried to hide a smile as she watched her youngest son's antics. "Do you think the General will mind if this soldier gives you a hug?" She asked, crouching in front of little Jacob.

"Better not risk it, ma'am," he said, soberly.

"Understood," she said, standing again. "Well, then, I suppose I'll have to let you two get back to work."

Jacob nodded again, and Sam walked back into her bedroom.

"I thought you were going to make breakfast." Jack said as she returned.

"Teal'c and little Colonel O'Neill are on kitchen duty." Sam said with an amused smile.

"Ah." He said with a small chuckle.

"I figured I'd get dressed," she said, removing her robe to reveal her cotton pajamas. "By then, I'd bet that breakfast will be almost ready, and it'll be time for us to take Grace back to the Academy Hospital."

"Speaking of Grace," Jack said as his wife hung up her robe.

"Yes?" She asked, looking back at him.

"Have you followed up with her on that whole...community service thing?"

Sam shook her head. "I've been a little preoccupied. Have you?"

He shook his head. "I've been preoccupied too."

"I'm not sure I want her doing something like that without one of us present. At least, the way things stand now."

Jack nodded. "I agree. But if we don't at least revisit the issue, she's going to think we've changed our minds."

Sam nodded, slowly. "Although, she doesn't really have to work anywhere besides home."

Jack's brow furrowed.

"Look, there are plenty of things that she can do on her own that will contribute to a service cause. She could hold a toiletry drive, and organize the donations into packets for a domestic violence shelter."

"Or she could make baby blankets for a neonatal care unit," Jack said, nodding.

"If she chooses, she can do something else after we're over this, but..."

"For the moment, she's safer if she works out of the house."

Sam nodded. "Exactly."

"Sounds good." Jack said, nodding.

Sam inhaled, nervously. "I, uh, probably wouldn't mention this until after we get the results of her tests..."

Jack nodded, slowly.

"I mean, those tests alone are enough to terrify grown adults, but..."

"She doesn't need to be thinking about this just yet." Jack agreed. She nodded as she pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater. He studied her closely for a few moments. "Are you okay?"

She looked up in surprise. "Oh yeah, I'm...I'm fine."

He looked skeptical.

"I could be better," she admitted. "Not knowing what's going on with Grace is worrying to be sure, but..." She exhaled. "I don't think it's life-threatening. At least, not medically life-threatening. Jonas had been having visions for a few days before he collapsed under the strain. Grace has been having them all her life..."

"And she finally collapsed too." Jack said, softly.

"My mother would never have given her anything that would kill her." Sam said, soberly.

"Sam..." He sighed.

"Believe what you will, Jack," Sam said, seriously. "But Grace knows way too many things that my mother told me."

"She's your daughter. Even if you didn't mean to, you probably told them to her too."

"How could she know they were from my mother?" Sam countered.

"Sam, I don't know." He said with a sigh. "But guardian angels isn't exactly something we've ever encountered before."

"So, let's challenge our assumptions," she said, logically. "Just because we haven't encountered them before doesn't mean that they don't exist." She swallowed. "We are very young after all."

"Come here," Jack invited, patting the bed beside him.

Sam sat down, and Jack pulled her into an embrace before he kissed the top of her head. "I know you miss your mom." He said, softly. "I know you wish she was here to guide you through raising the kids. I also know that this idea that she led Grace here and that she's giving Grace these visions to help us protect our family fills that void, but Sam, she's gone."

Sam's jaw tensed as she tried to fight the growing lump in her throat.

"I wish I could change that, Sam, but I can't. And neither can you."

Tears slipped out from underneath her eyelashes and trailed down her cheek where Jack brushed them away. "I also know that if you believe your mother gave her these visions, you save yourself from the hurt of believing that they might hurt her like they hurt Jonas."

"The Seer...he lived to be old. He'd had the visions all his life too..." Sam managed, thickly.

"Then, it's entirely possible that Grace will be just fine, isn't it?" Jack said, gently.

She looked away as she nodded, slowly.

He brushed his lips against her temple in an attempt to comfort her. "I love you, Sam," he whispered. "And I wish that our retirement was at least a little easier for us than our days at the SGC."

Sam sighed as she pulled out of his embrace. "I'm going to get in the shower." She said, quietly.

Jack nodded, wishing there was something he could do to lighten the burden she insisted on carrying almost single-handedly.

* * *

Nobody believes me.

She'd penned that as the last line in her journal entry before she'd fallen asleep, and that thought had haunted her dreams, though the specifics of the run-of-the-mill nightmares were lost now. Grace was quiet as she slipped out of bed, quickly dressing before she walked out of the room.

"Morning, Grace!" Jacob greeted, enthusiastically, from where he, Teal'c, and Charlie stood making a grand breakfast of French toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns and freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Morning," she mumbled.

"Sleep well?" Cassandra asked from where she sat at the breakfast bar.

"Fine," she murmured, joining the doctor.

"You know, I had a few questions I wanted to ask you before we went back to the hospital," Cassandra began.

"Can this wait?" Grace asked, somewhat irritably.

"Uh...sure." Cassandra said, nodding.

"Great."

"Want some juice?" Jacob asked, climbing down the step stool he'd been using to reach the counter. "I made it myself.

"Sure." Grace sighed. "I like juice."

The door to the master bedroom opened to reveal Sam and Jack, now dressed and ready to face the day. "Good morning, campers." Jack greeted as he walked over to where the rest of the guys were standing by the griddle and stove. "Anything I can do to help?"

"We are nearly finished, O'Neill," Teal'c said, shaking his head.

"D'oh! I told Carter I should have come out earlier."

Sam turned a less than appreciative look to her husband as she walked over to her daughter. "How are you feeling, angel?"

Grace shot a look at her mother, and Sam raised her hands in defeat. "Sorry for asking."

"Sounds like the O'Neill women woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Jack said, observantly.

He won identical withering looks from his wife and daughter.

"What?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm just making an observation."

He received no response from either his wife or his daughter as Sam moved to the refrigerator and reached for the gallon of milk in the fridge.

Cassandra watched the family somewhat tensely as she drank some of her juice.

"Anyone hungry?" Charlie asked, flipping some French toast into the air.

"Yes," Cassandra said, affirmatively, as she set her plate in front of her husband.

Everyone smiled appreciatively.

"How many?"

"As many as you're willing to give me," she joked. "I'm carrying twins, don't you know?"

Charlie laughed as he put two pieces of French toast on her plate. "Start with that, and then, we'll go from there, okay?"

"Okay." She said, nodding.

"Eggs?" Jacob asked, looking up at her. "Bacon? Sausage?"

Cassandra grinned. "Sounds great."

"Would you like hash browns?" Teal'c asked as Jacob served a bit of each.

"Yes, please." She said, nodding.

"Babies are hungry, huh?" Jack asked, looking at his daughter-in-law as he chewed on a crunchy piece of bacon.

"You have no idea," Cassandra said with a theatrical sigh.

Sam chuckled softly, the tension ebbing slowly from her mood. "I could use some breakfast too," she admitted.

"You got a baby in your tummy that's hungry too?" Jacob asked, innocently.

Sam and Jack both froze instantly as Charlie and Cassandra tried to hide their own amused smiles. "Uh...we'll talk later," Sam said, looking at her son. "But...no. No, you're the last child for your dad and me."

"But I want a baby brother!" Jacob pouted.

"Jake," Jack scolded, gently.

He sighed heavily. "Fine."

Sam reached for a small glass of orange juice which she promptly downed. "When are those tests scheduled?" She asked, looking at Cassandra.

"Ten-thirty. I figure that if we leave by ten, we should be fine."

She looked at the clock. "Well, it's nine-thirty now." She turned to Grace. "Why don't you get dressed while we serve you some breakfast?"

Grace sighed. "Fine."

"Do you want eggs, bacon, sausage or hashbrowns?" Jacob asked, managing to sound like a professional waiter again.

"Uh...no eggs, two sausage and some hashbrowns."

"Got it." Jacob said, nodding promptly as he wrote something down on a piece of paper.

"Nicely done, sport," Jack said in approval.

"I'm going to be a Jaffa waiter." He said, soberly.

Sam turned instantly to her son in confusion.

"What is a Jaffa waiter?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"It's a waiter that can do all that cool stuff that Jaffas do."

"Of course," Sam said, mockingly serious, before she turned an amused smile to her husband. "Now that we've cleared up whether or not I am pregnant again, can I get some French toast?" She asked, turning to Teal'c as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Jack said, crunching on another piece of the lean turkey bacon.

"It's probably Daniel," Sam called after her husband as the secret agents in the other room followed. "He said he'd come first thing in the morning."

"Right."

Grace reached for her own piece of bacon as she hopped off the bar stool. "I'm going to get dressed."

Sam watched her daughter go as she sighed softly.

"Was there a reason you were at each other's throats earlier?" Charlie asked, looking at his stepmother.

She sighed. "There's...something that came up last night that, uh, brought some conflicting responses from...well, Jack, me and Grace."

"Oh." Charlie said after a few moments.

Sam managed a thin smile. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

"You know, watching you and Grace reminds me of how I treated my mom when I got sick."

Sam tensed, soundlessly.

"She was very patient with me," Cassandra said, softly. "And so were you. It'll pass."

Sam managed a grateful smile. "We have our good times and our bad times." Sam said, softly. "We will get through this."

Daniel walked into the kitchen with Jack following. "I smell something delicious."

Jacob grinned as he ran up to Daniel with his pen and paper in hand. "My name is Jacob, and I'll be your waiter for this morning. We have French Toast, hash browns, eggs, bacon, sausage, and freshly squeezed orange juice."

"Wow. Sounds like a feast." Daniel said with a grin. "I'd like a little of everything."

"Excellent!" Jacob grinned.

Sam managed a smiled as she looked at her youngest before she looked at her husband. She imagined that the worry she found in his eyes was mirrored in her own eyes as they thought about Grace. She managed a supportive smile in an effort to comfort him, and he did the same for her.

"Hey, guys!" Charlie called to the agents stationed in the dining room. "Come on in. There's plenty for everyone."

Sam looked away, knowing that the very presence of the agents indicated that there was something worth worrying over.

"It's going to be okay," her husband whispered in her ear.

She looked up in surprise, not having seen him walk over. "I know." She said, shrugging off her worry. "It always turns out okay."

He nodded, and she realized that he looked as unsure of the statement's accuracy as she felt. She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. He rested his forehead against her as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Love you," he whispered before he kissed her forehead.

"Love you too," she returned with a small smile.


	20. Tests

"Grace, angel," Sam called as she knocked on her daughter's door. "Your dad, Cassandra and I are ready to go."

"I'll be out in a minute," Grace called, clearly irritated with her mother's interruption.

Sam's jaw tensed before she took another few steps toward Jacob's bedroom. She knocked on the door and opened it. "Jacob, honey, I just wanted to tell you that we're..."

She paused when she saw him psychically raising his stuffed bear before he rammed it into the wall. "What on Earth do you think you're doing?" She demanded, instantly.

He whipped around to look at her as if he was surprised to see her there. "Nothing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? You call picking up your teddy bear and hitting him against the wall nothing?"

He was silent.

"Jacob, why were you doing that?"

His lip began to tremble, though he remained silent.

"Jacob." Sam pressed. "I told you I didn't want you practicing your gifts..."

"At school!" He yelled. "I'm at home!"

Jack appeared at the door. "Something wrong?"

Sam sighed. "He picked up his bear and hit him against the wall. Obviously, there's some sort of frustration there, but he's not talking."

Jack nodded, slowly, before he walked into the room, scooped up the five-year-old, sat down on the bed, and set him on his lap. "What were you doing, Jake?"

The little boy sighed. "I was practicing."

"Practicing what?"

He eyed his mother before he turned more fully to his father and whispered in his ear.

"I see," Jack said after a moment. "Well, even Jedis have rules."

He sighed.

"Why do you want to be a Jedi, Jake?" Jack asked, slowly.

Jacob looked down at the ground. "Because a Jedi could keep bad people from hurting his mommy."

Sam tensed.

Jack nodded, soberly, as he looked up at his wife.

* * *

"We should have seen this coming," Sam murmured to her husband after they managed to calm Jacob down and walked into their bedroom.

"How do you mean?" Her husband asked, curiously.

"Don't you remember how protective he was, even in utero?" She asked with a reluctant chuckle. "You know...stopping a Titan's dagger from killing Teal'c or me, manipulating the elevator in which he was born so that we'd be freed from our steel captor...shall I continue?"

Jack shook his head, recognizing exactly where she was going with her logic.

"I don't think it was just coincidence that I was borrowing his powers at that time," she said with a sigh. "I think he, uh, wanted to help me so much that he gave them to me until he couldn't anymore."

Jack nodded, slowly.

"We have to get rid of these agents," she said with a sigh.

"How, exactly, do you suggest we do that?"

"Well, I think a phone call to the President would be enough to stop the tail."

"But that's just a symptom. The real problem is this threat..."

"So, we get our hands on that tape and find out just what the threat was. Then, figure out what we have to do to nip it in the bud."

"Easier said than done," he murmured.

"After we take Grace to get her tests, I want to talk to Barrett. Find out where they were on the investigation and see if we can get a fresh perspective on everything."

"Sam..."

"What?" She snapped, emotionally. "I can't keep living like this, and neither can the kids. It hasn't even been a full day yet, and I'm always on edge because I know they're always watching."

"I know," he said, slowly.

"You can't live like this either." She said, knowingly.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I can't."

She swallowed. "Maybe we need to call in some extra help."

"Like who? Maybourne's gone, we're already working with Barrett..."

"The CIA."

Jack stiffened.

"Jack, if there's anyone else who would know what the Trust was up to, it would her."

Jack's jaw tensed. "Sam, I don't think..."

"I'm not asking you to go." She said, shaking her head. "I recognize that would be..."

"Awkward." He finished.

She nodded. "But I am making sure that it's okay if I go."

He inhaled before he nodded. "If you think it would help..."

"I think it would." She said, evenly.

He sighed. "Look, I'll go."

"Jack, just because Sara and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye doesn't mean I can't handle Kerry Johnson." She said, shaking her head. "I can't handle this."

"I know." He said after a moment. "But...you shouldn't have to. Just like you didn't make me deal with Pete when he showed up at our house to help us find Grace."

Sam tensed as she remembered the incident.

"And I'll admit. It was weird, but he was the one who found Grace."

Sam nodded, slowly. "I don't have to tell you that if Hamilton's not the one who behind this whole thing, it could be an NID agent."

Jack sighed. "I know. How else could they get us under constant supervision?"

Sam shivered as the thought sent a chill down her spine. "We've got to get Barrett to call off these agents." She said, almost silently.

Jack nodded, soberly.

"I'm ready!" Grace called as she pounded her parents' bedroom door.

"We'll be out in a minute," Sam called back.

Jack looked at the door and then back at his wife. "Grace, then, Barrett, then, Kerry."

She nodded before she looked back at her husband. "I know you have strong feelings about whether or not my mother is the one guiding us through this, and I respect it." She swallowed. "But I'm with Grace on this one. There's too much personal evidence to suggest otherwise."

Jack opened his mouth, and she put a finger over his lips to keep him from speaking.

"I don't want to reopen the subject for debate, Jack." She said, gently. "I just...wanted you to know."

He hesitated for a moment before he nodded, silently.

They walked toward the door, and Jack opened it as Sam slipped through.

"You know that community service thing?" Grace asked as she stood outside the door of her parents' bedroom.

"Yes?" Sam asked as she reached for her coat.

"I'd rather not do it with an escort," she said, motioning with her head toward the agents standing behind her.

"Grace, we're not changing your punishment," Jack said with a sigh.

"I wasn't asking you to," she said, sincerely. "Just...thought maybe I could do something from home instead of joining some community service organization."

Sam looked at her daughter for a moment before she exchanged a glance with her husband, surprised that Grace had practically read her parents' mind. "Like what?" She asked, looking back at her daughter.

"Um...well, Cassandra said she wants to teach me how to make those cool tie blankets...aren't there people out there who could use those?"

Sam nodded, slowly. "Yes..."

"And what about quilts? Makayla's mom has that quilt store downtown. Maybe she could teach me how to quilt."

This time, both O'Neills nodded.

"You ready?" Cassandra asked, approaching the family, her coat already on.

Sam nodded with a smile.

"Excellent." She said with a grin. Then, she turned to Sam. "Is there any way we could do this without the, uh..." She motioned behind her with her head. "I have a few questions I was hoping to get out of the way before we actually did any of the tests."

Jack looked over at the agents before he whipped his cell out of his pocket. "This'll only take a minute."

* * *

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Jack called as the NID agents hurriedly packed their gear.

"President Marks went for it?" Sam asked, somewhat skeptically.

"Believe it or not, he thought he owed me for causing a heart attack and all that..."

She grimaced. "Can't say I'm sad to see them go."

"You and me both," Jack admitted as he led them out to the car.

"Grace," Cassandra said as she and the young woman were settled in the car. "Charlie mentioned something to me about your visions that I guess I didn't know...you actually participate in them? As one of the people who experienced the actual event?"

Grace nodded, slowly.

"Do you ever wake up still feeling the physical side effects of that?" Cassandra asked, curiously.

Grace tensed before she nodded, fully aware that her father was looking at her through the rearview mirror and that her mother was trying not to seem obtrusive as she eavesdropped.

"Once...I had a vision...about a tsunami..." She said, slowly. "I was seeing it through the eyes of one of the rescue workers...and a wave came before they could finish the evacuation. I, uh..." Her face was stony as she looked straight ahead. "I couldn't breathe for a few seconds."

The silence in the car was somewhat thick as Grace felt the unexpressed worry and pity from the other adults.

"What did you see before you passed out yesterday, Grace?" Cassandra asked, more solemnly.

Grace swallowed, her jaw tensing for a moment in her desire to remain stoic. "I was seeing a vision from my mother's eyes. She was barely alive..." Grace felt hot tears well up in her eyes. "She was begging Dad to take her home. To take her to the cabin."

Grace watched her father reach over and put a hand on her mother's knee.

"It wasn't from a bullet or something like that. She was sick. She had been for a long time." Grace felt one of the tears build up so much that it finally slipped over the edge of her eyelid and onto the waiting flesh of her cheek. "That...that's what I saw."

Cassandra's lips parted in absolute empathy. She'd watched people die – an entire village as well as her biological parents. She'd seen a ravaging plague bring otherwise strong and healthy adults to their knees in agony before easily extinguishing their lives like she would extinguish the light at the end of a match.

And she hadn't been much younger than the young woman sitting beside her. The feelings of helplessness she'd felt in those first few days after seeing the world almost literally end for her started rushing over her, making her almost physically ill.

The only difference between the 12-year-old Cassandra who had come through the Stargate with SG-1 almost twenty years earlier and 13-year-old Grace was that Cassandra had only witnessed that devastation once. Grace witnessed it everyday.

"Well, if that's true," Cassandra said, forcing a smile to her lips. "Then, you know I'll be keeping an eye out for it."

She won a small smile from Grace and a grateful one from Jack in the rearview mirror.

* * *

"Well, there's nothing we can do for nightmares," Cassandra said as she finished her examination. "Though if I come up with a cure for those, I'll let you know."

Grace couldn't help but manage a nervous smile as Cassandra winked.

"It'll take a few hours for the technician to read the scans, and a few days before we get the results of the blood tests we ran."

"A few days?" Grace asked, surprised.

She nodded. "I have to send the tests to the lab, but don't you worry about it. They'll be back in no time."

Grace smiled, softly, before she looked down at the floor.

"Grace, have you...have you been tired?" She asked, looking down at her notes.

"Tired?" Grace asked, looking somewhat nervous. "Uh...a little..."

Cassandra nodded. "How much sleep do you get per night?"

Grace looked over at her parents and then down at the floor. "Uh...four or five hours..."

The looks of surprise on the O'Neills' faces didn't escape Cassandra's notice.

"Because of the nightmares?"

Grace shrugged.

"Well, I want you to rest, okay?" Cassandra said with a gentle smile. "Maybe being overly tired makes the physical effects of your visions worse."

"Okay."

"And a growing girl needs more than five hours of sleep a night," Sam said, attempting to lighten the mood somewhat.

Grace nodded, meekly, still looking at her hands.

"Well," Cassandra said, looking over at her parents. "We've finished all the tests we had scheduled, and with the exception of a case of exhaustion I observed, I think Grace is just fine."

Sam nodded as Cassandra stepped closer to the O'Neills. "You know, there's a great therapist down the hall. Charlie and I have actually seen him a few times..."

"And he has clearance?"

"He splits his time between here and the SGC." She said, nodding.

Sam managed a small smile. "I think we'll give him a call."

"Well, I'll make an official referral." She said, efficiently. "You've got plenty on your plates right now."

Jack couldn't help but snort derisively before he walked back over to sit beside his daughter. "Well, kiddo, I think we missed the lunch rush, so...you wanna have lunch with your mom and me?"

Grace managed a thin smile before she shook her head. "I'm tired. I think I just want to go home."

"You sure?" He asked, studying her closely.

She nodded, slowly. "Yeah. Rain check?"

Jack grinned. "You better believe it."

She stood. "So, we're free to go?"

Cassandra nodded. "I'll call you in a few hours with the results of the brain scan, and I'll talk to you in a few days about your test results."

"Are you still going to stay at the house?" Sam asked, curiously.

"Not sure. I'll have to talk to Charlie." Cassandra said with a shrug.

"You'll stay for dinner at least?" Jack asked, looking up at her.

"That much, I think I can promise," Cassandra said with a grin.

Grace pulled on her winter coat before she walked toward the door. "Let's go." She murmured, unenthusiastically.

Sam watched her daughter before walking over to Cassandra. "Thanks for taking care of this."

She nodded. "No problem."

Jack nodded his thanks as well before the family filed out of the doctor's office as she heaved a small sigh in anticipation. The next few hours and days were going to be long for the O'Neill family.


	21. Intelligence

"How was he, Charlie?" Sam asked, looking at her stepson with a tired smile.

"Fine. How's Grace?"

"Tired. She hasn't been sleeping well." Sam said with a shrug. "But I'm sure she'll be fine. We'll get the test results in a few days, and...life will be grand."

"You seem a little tired."

"I didn't sleep well last night," Sam admitted. "It was the agents..."

"Ah." He said, nodding.

"Have you seen anything weird or...out of the ordinary?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Jacob was a little out of sorts – quiet, withdrawn – but Teal'c got him doing some of those...Jaffa training games and he perked right up."

Sam nodded. "Of course he did..."

"Sam, what's going on?"

She sighed. "He's got this notion that he needs to protect me from the "bad people"." She managed a small smile. "He certainly is like his dad."

Charlie smiled, appreciatively. "You guys have lunch yet?"

She shook her head.

"Why don't I fix you something?"

"That'd be great, but..."

"I'll be in the kitchen then." He said, raising a hand to gently silence her.

She managed a grateful smile as her husband walked over to her. "T says that Jake had a sandwich about an hour ago, and went down for a nap just a bit after that. He should be sound asleep."

Sam nodded. "Good to hear."

"Grace is making herself a sandwich, and then, she plans to take a nap too."

"Also good to hear." Sam admitted.

"And...you and I have some visits to make."

Sam nodded, slowly.

"We could call Danny and Mitchell..."

Sam shook her head. "No. It's our family. We should be the ones doing the legwork."

He nodded, slowly.

"We can switch, you know," she said after a moment. "You can talk to Barrett, and I can talk to Kerry."

He shook his head. "We've been through this." He said, honestly.

She nodded. "Yes, we have."

"Come on," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I think I smell lunch in the kitchen, and it's calling our names."

"Sam!" Malcolm Barrett greeted, looking up from his physical therapy.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, concerned. "Because I can come back."

He shook his head. "I'm almost done." He turned to the physical therapist. "Can we finish this in a few minutes?"

The therapist grimaced before he nodded. "Five minutes."

Sam managed a tense smile as he left. "I could have gotten coffee or something..."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't think this was exactly a social call. I figured you had something to talk to me about when I heard that you had President Marks call Special Agent Bauer."

She bit her lip.

"What is it?"

"You said you're positive that Senator Hamilton isn't responsible for these threats." She said after a moment.

"Hamilton's guys would have known that the tapes were destroyed." He said, nodding.

"What if...the people who made the threats knew full-well that the tapes had been destroyed?"

"I'm not following." He said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"There were only two groups of people who knew about the investigation: Hamilton's guys and the NID. And according to you, both groups knew that the tapes had been destroyed."

"You think the NID ordered you a security detail so that they could spy on you?" He asked, skeptically.

"If you can tell me with absolute certainty that it wasn't the NID, then I...might...believe you." She said, soberly. "Not because I think you're lying to me, but because I know what it's like to command a large facility. Not even the best commander can say exactly where every single person is at a time or what their real motives are."

He was quiet for a few moments, and Sam inhaled. "You can't do it, can you?"

"I know we don't have the best track record," he said, soberly. "But that doesn't mean..."

"You still haven't told me that the NID isn't behind this."

"Maybe...there are some...rogue agents...but every government agency in the world has that problem."

"Malcolm, no one knew where you were going except the people in your office. And you are the only one who ever said that your brake lines were cut." She said, seriously. "Are you still going to tell me that this isn't being orchestrated by a mole in your office?"

He sighed, clearly not happy with what she was saying.

"This is the Trust, Malcolm," she reminded him. "They had several clones of Ba'al, Athena, some Jaffa and ever other goa'uld here for months before we heard anything. And the intel we got on that, came from the Jaffa Council. Let's not be naïve enough to believe that they wouldn't be able to hide a few rogue agents in your investigation."

"But why, Sam?" He asked, exasperated. "Why would they do that?"

She turned a determined eye toward him. "That's what we're going to find out."

"And how is that?"

She swallowed. "I need everything you have on the Hamilton case and anything else you can think of that would relate to these threats including a copy of the tape that has the threat on it."

"Sam, that's all class..."

"It's my life, Malcolm!" She interrupted, angrily. "And it's my family! I have a right to do everything I can think of to protect them."

He finally nodded. "I'll have it to you by the end of the day." He paused for a moment. "I don't have to tell you that you didn't get this from me..."

She exhaled, slowly. "Thank you."

"When they told me that there was an Air Force general in my office, I had a feeling it would be you."

Jack turned around to find the auburn haired federal agent, dressed in a tan pantsuit and heels, standing in the doorway to her office in downtown Denver. "Kerry."

"What are you doing here, Jack?" She asked, soberly.

"I need some information."

She studied him for a moment before she bit her lip. "Is this about the threats against General Carter?"

He swallowed. "Yeah."

She nodded. "I guess I'm not surprised that you came for information. I mean, if it's true that the Trust is behind the threats, then, you're going to need to talk to anyone who had anything to do with breaking it up, so..." She walked toward him, her arms folded across her red satin camisole covered chest. "Shoot."

"First of all, what have you heard?"

She sighed, softly. "Not much. Only that there were threats, originally believed to be from Senator Hamilton's, um...security personnel, but that Agent Malcolm Barrett believes they came from someone else instead. Does that about cover it?"

He sighed. "Yeah."

"Now what? You want to know everything I know about Senator Hamilton's folks? Maybe find out what else this could be about?"

"If you know anything." He said, amicably.

She inhaled before she stepped behind her desk and retrieved a file. "You didn't get this from me." She said, soberly.

His brow furrowed as he received the file.

"I told you – I was expecting you." She said, soberly.

"Thanks." He said, honestly.

"I heard you have kids." She said, slowly. "And that, uh, Charlie was, uh, cloned, abducted, and came back."

He sighed. "Yeah...it's been an interesting few years."

"I'll bet." She said after a moment. "Give General Carter my regards."

He nodded as he turned to leave.

"And, Jack?"

"Hm?" He asked, turning.

"Take care of your family."

He nodded. "Take care."

By five o'clock, Sam was sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by copies of files and transcripts, and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Let me guess," Jack murmured, walking into the dining room with two cups of coffee in his hands. "You're going to pull an all-nighter, and I'm going to order Chinese."

Sam smiled as she looked up from the file in her hand to her husband, who offered her one of the mugs of coffee. "You know, you could help me." She teased, gently. "Teal'c's here. He can keep an ear out for the kids."

"And so are Charlie and Cassandra, though I think Cass wore herself out at work today."

Sam looked up in concern. "Is she okay?"

He nodded. "She just covered the rest of someone's 12-hour shift after she finished with us."

Sam tensed as Jack sat beside her. "Any news on the scans?"

Jack shrugged. "She said the technician reported that they came back clean, but that she wants to get the scans back and take a look at them herself before she says anything for sure."

Sam nodded. If Grace was at all alien, a "normal" brain scan might very well be misleading.

"How'd it go with Barrett?"

"You have to ask?" She teased, motioning to the piles of papers on the table.

He released a low chuckle before he picked up one of the files. "I'm surprised he got all of this to you."

"Honestly?" She asked after a moment. "So am I."

"What have you found so far?"

"Senator Terry Hamilton is from Ohio. He has a wife, two kids, and a dog." She swallowed. "He was first elected about five years ago, and..." She hesitated. "He recently received the appointment to chair the Senate Appropriations committee."

"Sounds familiar," Jack murmured.

She nodded. "A little too familiar."

"How so?"

"Well, about six months ago, after taking the appointment to the committee, Hamilton was briefed on the SGC."

"That's in the file?" Jack asked, surprised.

"No, but I called Major Davis at the Pentagon when I realized Hamilton was on the Senate Appropriations committee, and he filled me in on this part."

Jack nodded, motioning for her to go on.

"Apparently, he freaked."

"As in..." Jack prodded.

"As in he called President Marks and insisted that he wouldn't pass the budget if something didn't change about the Stargate Program."

"Like what?"

"According to Major Davis, it was to either expose the program to the world or shut it down."

"Like Marks needed any other incentive." Jack groaned.

She nodded, grimly. "Marks apparently made a deal. Took a page out of Henry Hayes's book, and had the SGC under intense scrutiny from the IOA for a three-month review process while he began to plant the bug in the ears of our international allies that they want to reveal the existence of the Stargate program."

"When did the three months end?"

"About three weeks ago – after Barrett's team had bugged Hamilton's office and home." She sighed. "Not long after that, the agents were murdered, and the tapes were destroyed."

She dropped the file onto the table in front of her. "And that's just the stuff on the surface."

"Wow."

"What about you?" She asked, looking over. "What'd you find?"

He sighed as he handed her the file Kerry had given him. "You tell me?"

She opened the file to find a post-it. "Gave everything I have to an Agent Cynthia Bauer when I was working with Barrett's team on cleaning up the NID. Originals have since been "misplaced", and Barrett hasn't seen them."

Sam tensed as she looked at her husband as a chill ran up her spine. "She was in our house."

"I know." He said with a grim look in his eye.


	22. CIA

_She walked out of the office building, her heels clacking against the sidewalk as her tan slacks bounced slightly with each step._

_Perhaps it was a side-effect of her work with the CIA, but every so often, she felt paranoid that she was being watched. Then again, Barrett's agents had been killed by the Trust, and she, herself, had worked to bring down the Trust. It was prudent to be cautious._

_She discreetly glanced behind her, unable to see even the most fleeting shadow through her curly, auburn hair. She was just being paranoid, she determined._

_She inhaled, deeply, before she sped up her walk to her car._

"_Going somewhere?"_

_She whipped around, pulling out the gun in the waistband of her slacks. With the gun cocked and ready, she pointed it at the owner of the voice, a dark-haired woman in her forties who wore a nondescript black pantsuit and a white cotton, button-down shirt and her hair in a ponytail. "Agent Bauer."_

"_I heard you met with General O'Neill."_

"_I thought you might – since you bugged my office and phones."_

"_What was in the file you gave him?"_

"_A few things to throw him off the trail. Nothing much."_

"_What kinds of things?"_

"_Implications that Senator Hamilton is behind the threats against his wife, first of all." She shrugged, lowering the gun._

"_How'd he take it?"_

"_Well, he actually thinks I like her." She said, conversationally. "So, I think he believed me."_

"_This isn't personal, Kerry." She said, soberly. "This is about much more than revenge."_

"_Right." She said, skeptically. "It's a crusade against the Stargate program."_

"_You didn't really tell General O'Neill that his wife's being threatened by Senator Hamilton, did you?"_

_She lifted her gun again. "And if I didn't?"_

_Cynthia raised her own gun as several other figures appeared out of the darkness. "Do you really want to find out?"_

Grace's eyes opened instantly, a sense of dread welling up inside her. That was the woman who had led her mother's so-called security detail.

"Come on, Grandma." She said, looking up at the ceiling. "You've got to throw me a bone. Give me something."

* * *

Grace stepped, timidly, out of her room and into the kitchen. She was only mildly surprised to find the light on in the dining room and to hear her parents' voices whispering as they'd done while she, Teal'c, Charlie, Cassandra, and Jacob had eaten dinner and before she'd gone to bed.

She bit her thumbnail, nervously, before she stepped into the dining room.

Instantly, her parents looked up. "What are you doing out of bed, angel?" Sam asked, looking at her daughter.

"I had a dream," she said after a moment.

"What was it about?" Jack asked, soberly.

"I was this...woman with red, curly hair. I think her name was..."

"Kerry?" Jack asked, sharing a look of concern with his wife.

She nodded. "Anyway, she was leaving this office building, and she thought she was being followed, so she tried to look and see, but she couldn't see anyone. Then, that, uh, agent who was here at our house appeared behind her and asked about what had happened when you'd gone to visit her."

"Did anything else happen?" Sam asked, looking at her daughter.

"Uh...they both had guns and Agent Bauer had figured out that Kerry wasn't telling her the truth."

Jack was instantly out of his seat and on his way to the phone.

"Did you see anything else? What time of day it was? What she was wearing?" Sam prodded, gently.

"Uh...it was dark...I think Kerry was wearing...tan pants...and even though they were downtown, there wasn't anyone else around."

"She's not picking up." Jack said, hanging up the phone.

Sam tensed. "Jack, if anything happened to her, it's our..."

"I know." He snapped. He walked over to Jacob's room, where Teal'c was sleeping. "Teal'c," he whispered.

Instantly, the Jaffa was up. "Yes, O'Neill?"

"We have a situation."

* * *

The sound of sirens in the distance made Jack sigh as they approached the Denver CIA office, now lit in blinking red emergency signals from the several law enforcement vehicles.

"It would seem that we are too late, O'Neill." Teal'c said, soberly.

"Yeah..." He sighed. "But Grace's vision never had a conclusive end. For all we know, they're just here to investigate a disappearance."

They parked a few blocks away before walking over to the investigators.

"Hey! Hey! This is a crime scene!"

Jack turned to find a man wearing an oversized blue windbreaker. "I'm General Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force. This is my friend, Murray. What's going on?"

"This isn't the Air Force's jurisdiction."

"I want to talk to the lead agent."

"You're speaking to him." He said, evenly.

Jack looked past the caution tape, seeing the body on the ground, covered with a white sheet. "Let me guess, her name is Kerry Johnson. She's a senior agent for the CIA."

The man in the jacket raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know that?"

"I saw her earlier today. I heard rumors that she was in danger, and I came to warn her."

"Uh-huh." He said, skeptically.

"Look, I think I know who did this, but we need to work together."

"Who did this, Mr. O'Neill?"

"It's General."

"I don't see a uniform."

"Well, I'm retired."

"I'm waiting." He said, soberly.

Jack sighed. "Who are you? CIA? FBI? NID?"

"CIA. You're right, she was one of our own, and we tend to take that very seriously."

"What do you know about what she was working on?"

"I'll ask the questions around here!" He snapped.

Jack raised a finger to indicate that he should wait for a few moments before he walked a few paces away, reached into his pocket for his cell phone, and dialed one of the contacts on the list.

"Garrett."

"Hey, Frank!" He greeted, forcing a smile to his lips.

"Jack!" The other voice greeted, enthusiastically. "I haven't heard from you in a while – since we met and played poker just before you left Washington. You calling to offer me a chance to win my life's savings back?"

Jack managed an amused smile though he wasn't really in the mood to laugh. "Look, I'd love to catch up, but I need a favor. I need access to the investigation into Kerry Johnson's death here in Denver."

"Kerry Johnson?" He asked, perplexed. "Isn't that the CIA agent who was looking into the Trust? Worked with Malcolm Barrett a few years ago?"

"That's the one."

"And she died?"

"I suspect foul play, but I can't get close enough to the body to figure anything out."

"So, this is official business?"

He paused, listening. "Well, actually, there's been some weird stuff going on. Sam and I are a little concerned, but it's not really...official business."

"What's going on, Jack?"

"The NID tipped us off that someone might be planning to hurt my wife in some way. We've started our own investigation into that which led us to Kerry Johnson's office today. Now, she's dead. And since I don't believe in coincidence..."

"Her death must have something to do with what you're investigating."

"Just another unfortunate proof that we're on the right track." Jack agreed.

"What do you need from me?"

"I need you to get me access to her files, this investigation, and anything else you can think of. I was actually on my way to warn her about the possible danger she was in when I appeared at the crime scene."

"Who's in charge?"

"Um..." Jack turned to face the agent who was rolling his eyes. "Hey, you! What's your name?"

"Special Agent Anthony Sardella."

"Anthony Sardella, CIA." Jack said into the phone.

"Let me talk to him."

"As you wish," Jack said, walking back and handing the phone over. "It's for you."

The agent inhaled sharply before he accepted the call. "Agent Sardella." Only a few moments later, he straightened. "Mr. Director, sir."

Jack turned to Teal'c with a sigh.

"It would seem that your investigation has startled someone." He said, soberly.

Jack swallowed. "Yeah, well...she was a good woman. She didn't deserve to be caught in the cross-fire."

Teal'c merely nodded.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Sardella said, interrupting them as he returned the General's cell phone. "But the Director of National Intelligence just called and made you the lead investigator on this case. Everything goes through you."

Jack looked suitably impressed. "Nice! Uh, show us what you've got."

* * *

Sam bit her lip as she continued to pour through the files on the kitchen table.

"He should be in Denver by now."

She looked up to see her daughter nervously looking over at the oven clock.

"He'll call us when there's something to report." Sam soothed as her cell phone vibrated. "Just like that." She said with a small smile as she reached for the phone. "Carter."

"Hey, Sam."

"What's going on?" She asked, hearing the stress in his voice.

"We were too late," he sighed.

She closed her eyes and swallowed.

"And, uh, now I work for the CIA."

"What?" She asked, absolutely shocked.

"Yeah, I had to call in a marker."

"Frank?"

"Yeah." He sighed.

"And he made you a spy."

"The head spy." He said, lightly.

"Don't joke," she sighed. "What's going on?"

"She was shot twice in the heart. And besides the information you and I have gotten so far, there's no evidence to the perpetrator."

"How long are you going to be?" She asked after a few moments.

"I don't know. A few more hours, I guess, while we finish up here at the crime scene, and then, I want to go through her files...see if she didn't leave something...hidden there."

"Do you want some help?"

"No. Stay with the kids." He said, shaking his head. "In fact, I might even send T to help you."

"Jack," she said, seeing the look on her daughter's face. "Are you absolutely sure you can't come home for a few hours?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's, uh, Grace..." She swallowed. "Just do what you need to do, and come home. We'll be waiting."

She hung up the phone and looked at Grace whose eyes were watering. "He was too late, wasn't he?"

"Grace, angel..."

"Don't lie to me!" She cried, angrily.

Sam stood and walked over to her daughter. "We did everything we could," she soothed before she wrapped her arms around Grace who was trembling. She held her daughter as Grace began to cry at the injustice of it all.


	23. Investigation

Sam pulled the reading glasses from her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, tiredly. It had been a little after five before Grace had fallen asleep on the couch out of pure exhaustion, leaving her to finish the research she had pulled into the living room. Now, it was nearly seven, and Sam still felt like she was barely scratching the surface of the NID files in front of her.

"All-nighter?"

Sam looked up to find Cassandra in the door frame. She heaved a heavy sigh as she nodded and reached for the cup of coffee by her notes. "The first of many, it would seem," she whispered as she stood from her seat at the couch.

"What happened?" The doctor asked, concerned. "Did Grace have another nightmare?"

Sam tensed.

"What was it about?"

Sam sighed, walking into the dining room so that she could keep from disturbing Grace. "She had a dream about one of our contacts with the CIA." She said, softly. "When we tried to forward the information to her, she wasn't picking up, so Jack headed down to try and help her out."

"What happened?"

Sam swallowed. "He was too late."

"Late as in..."

"She's dead, and he's now working with the CIA to investigate her death by studying the crime scene and the cases that she has been working and everything..."

"And Grace?"

"Was hysterical from about 11:30 last night to 5 this morning when she finally collapsed in absolute exhaustion."

"Why don't I call my friend at the Academy while you get some rest?" Cassandra asked, softly.

"I'm fine," Sam said, shaking her head. "But it would be good to get Grace an appointment with someone."

"Sam," Cassandra interrupted. "You're not fine. You're worn out. You need rest." She didn't have to add that she'd started watching Sam especially closely when she'd heard about Grace's vision about Sam's imminent death from some sort of unseen pathogen.

Sam sighed as she looked back at the table, covered in papers and folders. "I have to get through these files." She rubbed her forehead, tiredly.

"You know as well as I do that those aren't going to make any sense unless you get some sleep," Cassandra said, sternly. "Now, why don't I call and make Grace an appointment, you can call Daniel to help you, and while we wait you can lie..."

A scream from the living room interrupted Cassandra's thoughts, and Sam raced into the living room to sit beside her daughter. "Grace, angel," she soothed, brushing Grace's hair back from her face.

She was sitting up on the couch, covered in a cold sweat and shaking. "It's my fault! It's my fault!" She whimpered as her mother wrapped her arms around her and gently rocked her back and forth.

"No, Grace," she said, fiercely. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could do."

"It wasn't enough," she sobbed, clinging to her mother. "Why am I getting these dreams if nothing I do is ever enough?"

"Don't you ever think that you're not good enough or fast enough or smart enough," Sam persisted. "Bad things happen, but it's not your fault. You are a fantastic young woman – you are kind and patient and loving. This isn't your fault."

"But if I'd had the dream earlier..." Grace whimpered.

"You can't control the dreams," she said, softly. "I've told you before that I don't want you feeling bad about what you do or don't dream about. I told you that sometimes, we don't need to know about things."

"Why is this happening to me?" She sobbed with her hands clutched into fists, pressed against her mother's chest as she broke down.

* * *

"Okay,"Jack said, surveying the room that was filled with every file that had even referenced Kerry Johnson, CIA agent. "Truthfully, I didn't think I'd get all of this."

"Indeed." Teal'c said, nodding.

"I think they're trying to flood me with information so that when I start looking for the stuff about the Trust, it'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack." He said with a grim sigh.

Teal'c merely nodded.

"General O'Neill?"

He looked up to see the agent at the door. "Yes?"

"The coroner said she's finished with the autopsy. She said to stop by the morgue to pick up the report."

Jack bit the inside of his cheek. "Okay. I'll, uh, I'll head down and talk to her, but I figure she's not going to tell us anything that we don't already know."

The agent shrugged. "I don't know anything about what she found. I'm just reporting like she asked me to."

"Yeah," Jack said, waving the man off in dismissal. "I'll be down in just a second."

"Yes, sir."

Jack looked over at Teal'c. "Keep narrowing the search while I talk to the coroner?"

Teal'c nodded.

"Excellent." He stood. "Then, I guess I'm off..."

* * *

"You look terrible."

Sam didn't even crack a smile as Daniel walked into the room with a pot of coffee in one hand as he refreshed her mug. "Thanks," she murmured, acerbically, as she looked up at him from the papers in her hand.

"Cassandra wanted me to tell you that Grace's appointment at the Academy is at eleven, and that she won't let you drive unless you get some sleep before then."

Sam sighed, putting down the file in her hand as she pulled the reading glasses from her nose. "I have to get to the bottom of this, Daniel. I can't just ignore it. I mean, look at what it's doing to my family."

"You know, you don't have to do this alone," Daniel said, soberly.

"Jack's heading up the investigation into Kerry's death," she said, shaking her head. "He's working in Denver, and I'm supposed to keep everything together here."

"I didn't mean..." Daniel paused. "Vala and I can take the kids for a few hours while you take a nap."

"That's very sweet," she said, forcing a grateful smile to her lips.

"But you don't want Grace out of your sight."

She shook her head.

"Then, let me look through these files." He said, softly. "I'm just as familiar as you are with the Trust, and you can tell me whatever else you think I need to know."

Sam looked hesitant.

"I won't take 'no' for an answer."

She managed a thin smile before she nodded. "I don't think any of us really know what we're looking for," she admitted after a moment. "Obviously, if there's a direct connection to one of us, we want to know about it, but...we're reading through these files as much to give us some kind of idea of what we're dealing with as anything else."

Daniel grinned. "That's my area of expertise."

Sam chuckled under her breath as she stood.

"Grace is going to be okay," Daniel said, more seriously, as she walked past him.

She paused for a moment. "We knew she'd seen horrible things," she whispered. "We knew she would see horrible things." She paused, not looking at anything in particular. "It would be both wonderful and terrifying if she ever became desensitized to her visions. If she ever woke up one morning, looked at us with an untroubled expression and said she'd seen something about a natural disaster that she had no power to control." She swallowed, turning to face Daniel, who could now see the moisture in her eyes. "But keeping her heart open to the influence of love and compassion means that these visions of death or impending danger hurt her – especially if she's too late to help them."

Daniel nodded, slowly. "I remember after Janet died," he began, slowly. "I just...I wanted to be done loving people. I mean, my parents died when I was eight. And then, there was Sha're – who was gone before she actually died. And Nick...and just when I started to heal, I found out Sarah was a goa'uld." He paused for a moment, lost in the memories of yesteryear. "By the time Janet died, I'd died, myself. Ascended to a higher plane of existence. Only to find out that I couldn't save the one place that had ever really felt like home to me." He sighed. "I relived Sha're's death, and...I thought it would kill me to remember what had happened to her."

"What made you change your mind?" She asked, softly.

"You did." He said with a small smile.

She raised her brow in confusion.

"I don't know." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, ultimately, Vala helped me heal, but...having you and Jack and Teal'c around – being the only family I ever really...ever really knew. And later, Mitchell, Neill, and Vala joined that group, and now, I have a family – Vala and Nicole..." He shrugged. "I just remember the little nudges you were giving me. Reminding me that my life was still worth living, and that despite her...appearances to the contrary...Vala would understand how I was feeling."

Sam was looking at the floor, and with his long history with her, Daniel could tell that she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

He waited for a few moments before she looked up at him, her eyes leaking the tears she'd tried to hide for so long. "How do I explain that to my thirteen-year-old daughter whose only experience with the adult world right now is this...twisted web of lies and deceit and murder and God only knows what else...how do I tell her that someday she'll be grateful she was open enough to feel this pain because it means that she's not heartless like those monsters who do the things she sees at night?"

She was blinking away the tears furiously as she tried to keep from losing her composure. Daniel stepped forward, like the brother he'd become to her, and let her come and cling to him as if he was her last remaining lifeline to the world she was so desperately holding onto.

* * *

"Let me guess, two shots from a .9 mm to the chest." Jack said, walking over to the coroner.

"Fired at close range," she nodded, walking toward the body on the table. "General O'Neill, I presume?"

He nodded.

"Dr. Victoria Bentley." She said, extending a hand toward him which he promptly shook.

"Excellent. So, you confirmed what we already knew." He said, somewhat annoyed that this woman was wasting his time by telling him what he'd known almost from the beginning.

"And more if you'll stay just a minute more and humor me." She said, pegging him with a look that told him she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

"Okay." Jack said, shrugging. "What else is there?"

"I ran some tissue samples, and I was actually surprised that Agent Johnson was still working for the CIA."

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

"I found indications that she was in the early stages of ALS – a degenerative condition more commonly referred to as Lou Gehrig's."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Lou Gehrig's?"

She nodded. "I noticed some paralysis in the lungs...one of the first signs of Lou Gehrig's is often some sort of difficulty breathing."

"I just saw her yesterday, and I didn't notice anything." He said, shaking his head.

"Well, it's possible that she didn't even know yet. This is a terminal illness that lasts up to five years. If all she was noticing was some minor difficulty breathing, she may have passed it off as any number of things – allergies, a cold, asthma..."

"But?"

"But if she did know, she probably knew it was only a matter of time before the Agency dismissed her for medical reasons."

Jack inhaled slowly before he looked up at the coroner. "Anything else?"

She shook her head. "I didn't find anything that conflicted with the theory that she was shot to death. And besides the tissue damage I found in her lungs, she was perfectly healthy."

"Just not going to live for any more than five years."

She nodded.

"Well, thanks." He sighed. "That, uh, clears some things up."

"Glad I could be of help." She said as he walked out of the morgue. He wasn't even out of the hallway when his cell rang, and he pulled it to his ear. "O'Neill."

"Jack!" Cassandra cried in relief. "I've been trying to reach you for an hour now!"

"Cass..." He sighed, tiredly.

"You've got to convince Sam to get some sleep. She's been up all night, and she's showing no signs of stopping."

Jack sighed, pausing for a moment outside an elevator. "Put her on."

"Carter."

"Sam."

"Jack."

"You sound tired."

"So do you."

"How's Grace?"

"She's, uh," Sam hesitated. "Cassandra made an appointment for her to see that therapist she was talking about."

"That bad, huh?"

"Well, how did you think she'd react when she heard Kerry died before you could get there to save her?" Sam snapped.

Jack inhaled sharply, and he could almost see Sam cringe at the harshness of her words. "Jack, I'm sorry...it came out of my mouth before I..."

"You need rest, Carter."

"So do you."

"I'm in the middle of an investigation. I'll catch a few winks once I've made a bit more headway into Kerry's files. But you need some rest."

"After you're home safe."

"This investigation could last days or weeks. Everything there at home is going to fall apart if you don't get the rest you need."

She didn't argue.

"And...about Kerry, I..." He sighed. "I just learned that apparently, she was in the beginning stages of Lou Gehrig's. Whether or not she knew that is the question."

"Lou Gehrig's?" She asked, shocked.

"Coroner found some paralysis in the lungs."

"How does this change things?" She asked, sensing that something had changed for him.

"It means that it was only a matter of time before the Agency put her on terminal medical leave."

"You think she wanted to finish what she started?"

"I think she was working on something long term." Jack said, soberly. "The few things I've read in her files indicated that she was still working with the task force that was put in place back when we were trying to clean up the Trust the first time around."

"Do you think she went rogue and tried to up the timeline?"

"That wasn't her style," he said, shaking his head. "But I could see her taking a few more risks..."

"Like giving you a file with classified information in it." She said, nodding.

"Possibly even pretending to be a double-agent..."

"Anything to finish her job." She finished.

"And, God willing, put her out of her misery before she had to watch everything around her from a hospital bed."

"You said you're looking through her files?" Sam asked, after pausing for a moment to realize that she would have wished the same thing in the auburn-haired agent's place.

"T's helping me."

"Daniel's here helping me."

"Well, if you've got some help, I want you to go take a nap before Grace's appointment. Get back to the files after that."

Sam sighed. "All right. As long as you get some rest by the time I get back to work on the files."

"I'll try."

"I love you." She whispered, softly.

"I love you too."

"We'll get through this." She said, trying to sound confident.

"We have before." He returned, trying to sound equally confident.


	24. Therapy

"Grace O'Neill?"

Grace eyed the young doctor, warily, as if she was sizing up a potential enemy.

"I'm Jeff." He said with a friendly smile as if her suspicion didn't phase him at all. "Pleasure to meet you."

Grace eyed his hand somewhat suspiciously before she looked back up into the doctor's face.

"That's okay." He said, retracting his hand. "I hear you've had a few things happen which might make you a little hesitant to talk to me. Maybe you'd feel more comfortable if you had your mother in our first session?"

Grace looked back at her mother for a moment before she nodded.

"Good. I actually like to have the parents involved in the first session or two until we start to get a rapport," he said, enthusiastically, before he opened the office door. "After you."

Sam stood, following her daughter and the blond-haired man into the office before he closed the door and walked over to a small sitting area in the room. "Go ahead and have a seat," he invited, motioning to the couch.

Grace and Sam sat down, silently.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" He asked, turning to Grace.

Grace swallowed before she looked at her mother and then back at the psychologist. "I have these...dreams..."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Dreams where...where I see things that haven't happened yet."

"I see." He said, nodding in interest. "What kinds of things do you see in your dreams?"

She swallowed. "Um...I see all kinds of things, but usually...it's when someone gets hurt, or sick, or...or they die."

"Tell me what it's like when you have these dreams," he invited, gently.

She inhaled. "Um...well, when I was younger, I would see things, as if it was a television show."

"So, you were an observer."

She nodded.

"What did you want to do as an observer?"

"I wanted to help the people." She said, instantly.

"That's healthy." He said, nodding.

"Only now, the dreams have changed." She said with a troubled look in her eye.

"How have they changed?" He asked, curiously.

"Now, I see the dreams as if I'm one of the people in it." She said with a small sigh. "One of the first dreams I remember that changed was one where I was this...rescue worker in Asia when the tsunami hit a few weeks ago, and then, I was this girl who found her boyfriend's body in a warehouse and heard something about an announcement making this family get absolutely surrounded by reporters, and how they were planning the kidnapping of the kids after the family was covered...and then, someone found out that she was there, and they killed her!"

Sam just looked at her daughter, absolutely astounded. Grace hadn't shared all of that with her parents.

"Let's talk about that dream. It sounds like that was really memorable for you."

Grace nodded, slowly.

"What was the girl doing at the warehouse with her boyfriend?"

Grace sighed. "I don't know exactly. Except I know they weren't supposed to be there, and I know they weren't together for a while...they'd been separated. She was trying to find him when she stumbled onto his body."

"And that's when she started to hear things?"

She nodded. "There were two guys...one was definitely the boss, and the other one...I guess he was the one who always got his hands dirty doing whatever the boss told him to do..." She sighed. "They were talking about some sort of announcement which was supposed to come out in the next few weeks. They said that this family would be flooded by the media, and that they wanted to wait to kidnap these kids until the family was absolutely covered."

"Why do you think they wanted to wait?" He asked, curiously.

"I don't know!" She cried, angrily. "How am I supposed to know? I'm not a kidnapper! Maybe they just wanted to see the pain of the parents' faces plastered all over television!"

Sam put a gentle hand on Grace's shoulder to calm her as she thought through the pieces of information which had just come together for her. The Stargate program was due to be revealed, at Senator Hamilton's insistence, within a matter of weeks. Jack and Sam would be under scrutiny from the press after that happened. And if the kidnappers had ties to the Trust, they could take her children in the blink of an eye – even under round-the-clock surveillance.

Her heart stopped for a moment. Was that why her daughter had received such frightening visions? Was her mother trying to warn them that there was a very real possibility that, just as Sam had feared, Grace and Jacob could be snatched from their parents' arms by business men so unscrupulous that they would kill an innocent girl and her boyfriend to cover their tracks and so powerful that they could get away will killing two NID agents?

Her blood ran cold at the thought before a line from the tapes she'd listened to before leaving for the appointment ran through her mind.

"_You know that blond you keep working with? The ex-general in Colorado? We'll leave her alone in exchange for whatever tapes you have from the Senator's office. If you don't, we can't make any promises, and who's to say you won't be blamed? Can't afford to have another black mark on your record after the whole goa'uld fiasco."_

Suddenly, her initial reaction to the possibility that Cynthia Bauer was somehow working outside the NID's official policies reared its head again, especially since she'd been a presence in their home. What if the Trust had been attempting to discover what special capabilities, if any, the O'Neill children had? What if, during their brief day under complete surveillance, they'd accidentally given her exactly what she wanted to know?

She looked at her purse, now on the floor as Grace and Jeff talked through some of the aspects of her dream which had frightened her. She wanted to stand up, grab her phone and call her husband. She wanted to capture Cynthia Bauer somehow and force her to tell them what the plan was. She wanted to keep an unwavering eye on her children.

"Mom?" Grace asked, looking over. "Are you okay?"

Sam managed a thin smile. "I'm fine, angel." She said, shaking her head. "Don't worry about me."

* * *

"I want you to see if you can get an agent...Cynthia Bauer...in for questioning," Jack announced, looking over at Agent Sardella.

"Sir?" He asked, confused.

"Kerry mentioned that she was going to see agent Bauer at our last meeting," Jack said without batting an eye. "I figure it's at least a good idea to pull her in for questioning."

Sardella nodded, hesitantly. "Yes, sir."

"I think she's NID." Jack said as his cell began vibrating. He pulled it out of his pocket. "O'Neill."

"Jack." His wife greeted.

"What is it?" He asked, noticing the tone of her voice.

"Did Grace ever tell you about the dream where she was the teenaged girl who found her boyfriend dead?"

"Uh...not any more than she told you," he said, shaking his head. "Why?"

"She mentioned it today. She said that the girl overheard two men talking about kidnapping children."

"Really?" He asked, surprised.

"She said that the "boss" apparently said that he didn't want the kids taken until after a certain announcement was made and the family would be under scrutiny by the press."

"What kind of announcement?"

"Think about what we talked about before Kerry was killed, Jack." She said, soberly. "Senator Hamilton gave President Marks an ultimatum – six months to reveal the Stargate program or shut it down."

"Which expires in the next few weeks."

"And that announcement would put all of the members of SG-1 directly in a media spotlight." She added.

"You think that they're after our kids."

It was a statement that was not judgmental, just a simple clarification, and Sam sighed. "I know, I know...it sounds paranoid..."

"Not as much as I'd hoped," he admitted with a sigh of his own.

"Jack, the likelihood that the NID saw something while they were there...the likelihood that Cynthia Bauer saw something..."

"I know." He said, soberly. "That's why I'm bringing her in for questioning."

"Questioning?"

"She's the only lead we have in this investigation since she made it look like Kerry had been mugged – stole her purse and everything."

"How did you explain the lead?"

"I said that Kerry had mentioned she was going to be seeing her. Which...in a roundabout way, she did."

"Just be careful," she murmured.

"I will be."

"You know how much I love you, right?"

"Sure do. Do you?"

"Always," she whispered with a tender smile.


	25. Lead

"How was the appointment?" Cassandra asked, looking over at Grace as she walked in the door, followed by her mother.

"Fine." Grace said, cryptically. "I'm tired."

Sam just nodded, wearily as Grace headed down the hallway to her bedroom.

"Sam?" Cassandra asked, studying the retired General.

"I'm fine," she said, shrugging off the physician's fears. "Really. Just...ready for this to be over."

"Aren't we all?" Cassandra murmured as she pressed a hand to the side of her belly with a grimace.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked with a keen eye.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "One of the twins has decided that they want to kick their way out of here."

Sam grinned, tiredly.

"You wanna feel?" She asked, reaching for the other woman's hand.

"Sure."

"All right, you two," Cassandra said, looking at her belly. "This is Grandma, so...behave, will you?"

Sam smiled as she felt the distinct outline of a foot. "Well, hello, there," Sam said with a gentle smile. "You give your mama a break, will ya? She's a great woman, and she's doing everything she can to get you here, but you have to be patient, okay?"

There was a violent kick, which caused Cassandra to gasp softly and Sam to chuckle to herself. "Now, now...be nice."

Cassandra took a moment to recover as Sam pulled away and walked over to get herself a cup of coffee. "Sam, you should let me take a look at you."

"Why?" She asked, nonchalantly.

"Because of Grace's vision."

"You mean that one day, I'll die...just like every other human being on the planet?" Sam asked, looking back at the younger woman with a caustic expression.

"You know what I mean," Cassandra said with a sigh as she sat at the table.

Sam turned to face her. "I'm fine. Tired because I haven't slept often enough, and tired of waiting for something bad to happen." She swallowed. "Until I find that it's more than that, I'll keep living my life, okay?"

Cassandra bit the inside of her cheek.

Sam walked over, a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand. She sat easily at the table beside Cassandra and put her hand on the younger woman's hand. "If there's one thing that I've learned over the years, it's that there's a balance in the world. Something bad happens in one part of the world while something good happens in another. A life is taken at the same moment that a life is created. Someone is saved while someone else is lost." She swallowed. "Emptiness is filled, the hopeless receive hope, darkness turns to light."

She looked up at Cassandra to see the moisture pooling in the corners of her eyes. Instantly, she thought of the trade that had occurred on that fateful day on '666. The injured airman they'd tried to rescue had been saved. Jack's life had nearly been forfeited after noticing a stealthy Jaffa. That Jaffa had shot Janet, and taken her life. One way or another, it seemed, someone had to die that day.

And to this day, Samantha Carter could not have chosen which of those three people she would have sacrificed. The injured airman? No – that had been the point of the rescue. Jack? Of course not – if he'd died then, she wouldn't have her two beautiful kids or Charlie and Cassandra and their coming children. Janet? Never – her death still haunted all of the members of SG-1, not to mention Cassandra.

Sam blinked away her own tears. "I've lived a good life," she whispered. "And as long as I live to see my children grow into happy, well-adjusted adults, I'll count myself blessed."

Cassandra wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before she stood with a soft "Excuse me..."

* * *

"There's a phone call for you, General."

Jack accepted the phone from his assistant and put it to his ear. "O'Neill."

"General."

"Reynolds. I'm retired. Call me Jack."

"Sorry, sir. Old habits die hard."

"So they tell me," Jack said, easily. "Talk to me."

"There are a few ways to achieve your goal," he said, no doubt certain that this was an unsecured phone line. "But I think the easiest would be to use the _George Hammond_."

"Nice!"

"We can lock onto your tracking beacon and do it remotely."

"I still have one of those?"

"Yes, sir."

"Creepy..."

"Don't worry, sir, we haven't..."

"No, I know." He said, shaking his head. "Do what you've got to do. I'm headed in now."

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Jack put the phone in his pocket before he stepped into the interrogation room.

"General O'Neill," the woman said, looking up in surprise.

"Agent Bauer."

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said, recovering from her surprise. "I thought you'd be at home with your wife and kids."

"I would be...if someone hadn't killed a friend of mine."

"I was sorry to hear about Kerry." She said, casually, as if she was speaking about him being unable to sell a worthless car.

"I can see you're really broken up about it."

"I didn't know her very well," she defended. "And I'm a little frustrated that I was pulled in for questioning by an Air Force general who doesn't think that my team could do a good enough job of protecting his family."

Jack ignored her verbal attack. "Where were you last night around eleven pm?"

"At home."

"Can anyone verify where you were?"

"Doorman saw me come in at seven, and I didn't leave until five-thirty this morning."

"Anyone inside your apartment?"

"If I'd known that I would need an alibi, I would have made sure there was someone there," she said, dryly.

"How long have you been working with Malcolm Barrett?"

"A couple years now." She said, shrugging. "I think we started working together in, uh, '05 on the in-house cleanup of the Trust and rogue agents in the NID."

"Funny," Jack said, eying her closely. "Because there's no record of you working on that in-house cleanup."

"Are you accusing me of something, General?" She asked, looking over at him.

"Let me tell you what I think happened." Jack said, leaning forward. "You asked Kerry for files pertaining to her part of the investigation into the Trust at large. She gave you copies in the interest of interdepartmental cooperation. You arranged for the originals to be...misplaced..."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know." He said, leaning in. "That's what you're here to tell me."

"This is ridiculous." She said, rolling her eyes. "You don't have enough to hold me."

"I'm pretty sure you want to answer my questions." Jack said, his eyes hard.

"Oh?" She asked, skeptically.

He circled around so that he was beside her, and he leaned close to her so that his whisper could be heard by only her. "I trust you've read my file," he murmured, easily. "And if I find out that you're involved in some plot against my family, even the worst things I did in Black Ops will sound like a picnic."

"Making threats to someone you're interrogating isn't a smart move," she said, not even reacting to the General's words.

"Was I making threats?" He asked, facetiously. "I meant to make promises."

She looked unimpressed, and Jack looked over at the two-way mirror. "Okay, T, she's all yours." He said with a shrug.

* * *

"You look like hell." Daniel said as Sam walked into the dining room to hear about his progress.

"It's a wonder I don't have you on speed dial so you can cheer me up on my bad days," Sam murmured, wryly. "What've you got?"

"I'm not sure," Daniel sighed as he reached for one of the files. He rifled through the pages before he handed it to her. "Look at that."

Sam pulled on her reading glasses and read the paragraph he'd pointed out before her brow furrowed. "They found evidence of the Trust at Area 51?"

"It's not terribly surprising," Daniel admitted. "I mean, we've had some technological leaks before, but what's interesting is the department that they found the corruption in."

"Genetics and biochemistry." She said, reading the file again. She looked up. "Genetics and biochemistry?"

He nodded.

"For what purpose?"

"Well, that's what I was wondering when I came across this." He said, handing her another file with a picture of the Ancient woman they'd unearthed during the year that Daniel had been ascended, and Jonas had been on the team and a picture of Khalek, Anubis's highly advanced genetic experiment.

"You think they're studying Ancient physiology." Sam said, studying her friend.

"I think they're doing more than that," Daniel said, soberly.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I'm following," Sam said, closing the files.

"What the file said is that there are samples of Ariana and Khalek's DNA missing from the lab. Along with all of the research you confiscated from Nirrti when she was killed."

"Anubis and Nirrti were both researching basically the same thing – a genetically advanced human. A hok'tar."

"And Ariana was an Ancient." Daniel finished. "Complete with healing and rejuvenation powers."

"But she was also a victim of a plague," Sam interrupted. "I mean, we all got it. Jack got a Tok'ra because there was no cure except Ariana."

"I know. And Ariana died, and her body was burned."

"But..." Sam prodded.

"The missing samples were from the research done in Antarctica. Before she was thawed. Somehow, they were forgotten in the race to find a cure."

"And consequently misplaced." Sam said with a sigh.

"Sam, I don't have to tell you that this research into genetic manipulation alone is enough to put you and Jack in harm's way."

She nodded. "I agree, but not for the same reasons you think."

"What do you think I think?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"That they'd want to test the viability of the genetic changes with the protein markers left in a host's body after absorbing a dead symbiote." She said, clinically. "Or that they'd want to see how naquadah in the blood might affect the ease of manipulation."

"Well, I wasn't..." Daniel murmured. "Uh...yeah, that would be a good reason, I guess."

"What were you thinking?"

"Probably what you were thinking I wasn't thinking," Daniel said, soberly.

"Grace and Jacob are the keys to creating the perfect hok'tar." Sam said, grimly.

"Yeah." He said, solemnly.

"Do you have any idea who's funding the research?"

Daniel shook his head. "Barrett had a few thoughts, but each of the leads seemed to die before he even got more than a few steps down the path."

"Die as in..."

"They weren't viable." Daniel quickly rephrased.

Sam nodded, slowly. "Did he investigate an Agent Cynthia Bauer?"

Daniel's brow furrowed as he quickly read through one of the open files on the table. "Uh...no..." His eyes widened. "In fact, she's the one who usually presented the fatal flaw in his arguments about the other leads." Daniel's eyes widened. "And here's something interesting. Bauer's brother was on SG-16. He died about three weeks into his assignment."

"Do I want to guess how?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Captured and tortured by Anubis."

"I'm calling Jack." Sam said, instantly.

* * *

"I know what you're trying to do." Bauer said, studying the intimidatingly large and sober dark-colored man across from her.

Silence was her only response.

"I have a lot more years in interrogation rooms than you do. You can't break me."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow in her direction.

Jack reappeared in the room. "T, can I have a word with you?"

Teal'c nodded, standing instantly.

As the men left, a green light penetrated the room as if it was scanning the room for signs of life. Bauer looked around, instantly on alert.

* * *

"That was Sam," Jack said from where he and his Jaffa friend watched Bauer's increasing paranoia through the two-way mirror. "Apparently, Bauer's in on it. Whether or not she's the puppet or the master is another question." He looked over at the woman in the room. "But that reaction leads me to believe that she's the puppet. Now, I've had Reynolds use that...scanner thing...that the Lucian alliance used on SG-1 before all of those assassination attempts a few years ago. As far as I understand, she'll emit some discernible energy signature or something...but it's traceable. I want you to follow her. She's going to lead us to the people behind this."

Teal'c nodded.

"I think we should let her go, don't you?" Jack asked, turning to his friend as they both watched the woman squirm in her seat.


	26. Progress

"O'Neill," Jack greeted as he answered his phone.

"Agent Bauer made a phone call upon leaving her interrogation. She is now traveling to a place on the other side of the city."

"Great." Jack said, soberly. "I'll have a team track your GPS, and hopefully, we'll have this all finished by the end of the hour."

"Indeed."

Jack hung up the phone, thinking about how nice it would be to get home after all of this. He was turning into such a softie. At one time in his life, it wouldn't have been unusual for him to be away from his family for several weeks or months at a time. Now, however, he'd been gone from his family for eighteen hours, and he could hardly wait to get back.

That's the privilege of retirement, I suppose, he thought to himself as he dialed his wife's cell phone number.

The phone rang three times, but she didn't answer. He felt worry tug at his heart. With all that seemed to have been going on at home and with all the intrigue they'd been forced to deal with, it was only prudent, he supposed. But it still made him feel like he was a bit paranoid. Finally, he heard someone answer the phone. "Just a minute, Dad."

"Charlie!" Jack said, recognizing his son's voice. "Where's Sam?"

"I'm looking for her," Charlie said as Jack heard the sounds of the household in the background. "Oh...it looks like she fell asleep while she and Daniel were looking at some of the files she got from that friend of hers..."

"Good," Jack murmured, softly. "I was just going to tell her that I think we've finished up the case."

"Finished the case?" He asked, surprised. "That was quick."

"Well, I'll be done," he said, casually. "My friends at the CIA will have to worry about all the warrants and working with the prosecution if it gets to trial."

"Is there any doubt it will?"

"The problem with going after government corruption is that even if you can find a person brave enough to prosecute, they're powerful enough that they can get it dismissed pretty easily."

"That's got to be frustrating."

"It can be," Jack said, noncommittally, and Charlie wondered for a moment if his father was thinking of taking matters into his own hands if something kept these criminals from facing justice.

That thought should have surprised him more than it really had, he thought to himself.

"Be careful, Dad," Charlie said after a moment of thought.

"I will be," he said, almost surprised to hear his son's worry. "Tell Sam to call me when she's awake.

"Will do."

* * *

Cassandra knocked gently on Grace's bedroom door. "Grace?" She murmured as she opened the door, slowly.

The teenager poked her head out from under her covers with a grimace. "Yeah?"

"You mind if I come in for a minute? I just want to see how you are." She said, soberly.

"Okay," Grace murmured, wincing at the brightness of the light.

Cassandra eyed her sister-in-law with a clinical eye. Photosensitivity, exhaustion, erratic sleeping patterns. All could be signs of clinical depression.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, closing the door as she walked over to sit on the girl's bed. "I know what it's like to go to your first therapy appointment. It can be very draining."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine." She murmured. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

Cassandra pressed her hand to Grace's forehead, feeling the temperature of her forehead before she let her go. "Sorry." She said with an amused, but apologetic, tone as Grace looked at her strangely. "I'm in super-maternal mode. It happens when you're pregnant."

"Look, I'm fine." Grace assured her.

"Sometimes it can be helpful to talk about your session with someone," Cassandra said, softly. "I don't know everything about what it's like to be you, but I do know what it's like to be different. I know what it's like to think that people don't understand."

"Look, I get that you're an alien, and all that, but..." Grace began. "But you don't know what it's like."

"When I was fifteen, I got sick," Cassandra said, soberly. "It got so that after a while, I could move magnetic chess pieces with my mind."

"Really?" She asked, surprised.

"Don't get excited. I can't do it anymore, and to be honest, I'm glad." Cassandra said after a moment.

"I'll bet," Grace murmured to herself.

"I wanted to let my body change into whatever it was becoming. My mother wanted me to fight it." Cassandra swallowed. "Your mother came in for our regular chess game. I showed her what I could do. I was sure she'd get scared like my mom was scared about what I was changing into. When she didn't, I asked her what she saw, and she looked me in the eye and said "I see you. And until your head starts spinning around, and probably even then, I will always see you." Cassandra looked Grace with a soft smile. "Right then, I knew that whatever happened to me – whatever I became – your mom would always love me. And I wasn't even her daughter."

Grace swallowed as tears welled up in her eyes. "But you went back to being normal. What if I never become normal? What if I always have dreams about people getting hurt and never get them in time to actually help anyone?"

"If your mother could love a literal ticking time bomb like me," Cassandra said, tears moistening her own eyes. "Then, she could never stop loving someone like you."

* * *

Teal'c sat in a dark sedan across the street from where Bauer waited at an alley. Suddenly, a dark figured appeared in the shadow, and she followed him. Teal'c slipped out of the car and crossed the street.

"...I don't know what Kerry said to O'Neill before he left the office yesterday, but I think he suspects." A female voice, belonging to Bauer, said somewhat fearfully.

"Part of your interview was compromised by an strange energy signature. What was it?" A male voice asked, ignoring her fear.

"I don't know. There was a weird...green...light that came into the room. I thought maybe they were scanning it for some sort of surveillance, but then they let me go. No questions asked."

Teal'c reached for his phone and quickly put together a text message: Agent Bauer is meeting with a contact. I am unsure of his identity. - T

In a moment, he'd sent it to O'Neill, and returned his attention to the conversation he was overhearing.

"They didn't ask me about the bugs, so I doubt they found them yet. But I have to admit...this whole thing feels a little more risky than I thought it was supposed to be."

"Do you want out?"

"No, no, of course not." She said, obvious fear in her voice. "I'm just saying that maybe we out to be more careful...you know, about our plans for the kids."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow at the mention of "the kids".

"Measures are being taken to assure that everything goes according to plan."

"You don't understand. Five minutes after I showed up on their doorstep with a team, the rest of SG-1 showed up. Not even a day after that, they'd completely taken over. Even O'Neill's in charge of looking into Johnson's death."

They were definitely discussing the O'Neill children.

"You sound nervous."

"I am nervous! And you should be too!"

"Nervous people aren't any use to the Senator." The male voice said as Teal'c heard the soft sound of a silenced gunshot.

Teal'c reached for his gun as he headed into the alley only a moment later. There on the ground in a growing pool of her own blood was Agent Cynthia Bauer.

There was no sign of anyone else in the alley.

* * *

"How is this possible?" Jack asked, incredulously, as he met Teal'c at the hospital.

"Perhaps this group has access to beaming technology."

Jack pressed his hand against his forehead in an effort to clear his mind. "How is she?"

"The doctors have been unwilling to offer any projections related to Agent Bauer's condition."

Jack groaned before he reached for a passing doctor. "I need to talk to the doctor in charge of Agent Cynthia Bauer."

The doctor pointed to another man walking down the corridor, and Jack walked over. "My name is General Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force. I need to talk to you about Cynthia Bauer."

"Doctor Andrew Nguyen." The doctor said, soberly. "Unfortunately, Ms. Bauer is still in surgery. It's a miracle that she's still alive since the bullet was shot so close to her."

"Maybe it's our lucky day." Jack said with a monocle of grim humor.

"Well, lucky day or not, we can't tell you anything about her prognosis until after she gets out of surgery. And even then, it will be hours, if not days, before she's going to be well enough to talk to you."

Jack cursed beneath his breath, and Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "So much for having this case wrapped up by the end of the night." Jack supplied.

Teal'c nodded with understanding.

"I'll let you know the minute she's ready for questioning," Dr. Nguyen offered.

"Thanks."

The doctor walked away, and Jack sighed. "I think it's time to go chat with Malcolm Barrett. Clearly, Bauer was involved in something big."

Teal'c nodded.

"And I have a hard time believing that he didn't even suspect."

Teal'c nodded again.

* * *

"General O'Neill." Barrett said, surprised when the Air Force general appeared in his hospital room. "I haven't heard from Sam. Are the files helping at all?"

"As far as I know, she and Danny are getting a lot of use out of them," Jack said, amicably.

"Something wrong?"

"Cynthia Bauer. What do you know about her?"

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"She was shot in an alley earlier today after she was brought in for questioning about Kerry Johnson's murder. Now, I don't believe in coincidences. Especially when two women who knew each other end up shot in an alley within twenty-four hours of each other." Jack folded his arms across his chest. "So talk."

"Sam told you what I had in the files about her?"

"That she was the one who presented evidence that shut down all of your working theories about the Trust's operations and that she had a brother who was killed by Anubis."

"That's all I know." Barrett said, soberly. "I was about to start an investigation into her when I got orders from my superiors to let it go."

"And you did?"

Barrett sighed. "I lost two agents about six hours later, and I received a threat to your wife's life two days after that."

"And...ended up in the hospital when you tried to warn her." Jack finished.

"I can usually convince my superiors to let me look into something, but sometimes I have to give them time to adjust to my request. I thought this was one of those times."

"How far up the chain of command did the order originate?"

"Director of National Intelligence, as far as I know."

"No," Jack said, shaking his head. "Frank isn't in this. If he was, he wouldn't have let me take over this investigation."

"Maybe he was doing a favor for someone."

"Like?"

"I don't know...Senator Hamilton, maybe."

Jack shook his head. "What I've read of Kerry's files has indicated that Hamilton's not the real threat."

"Not the real threat?" Barrett asked, incredulously.

"There's something else out there. Something that wants to get Hamilton buried with threats of corruption." Jack sighed. "Hamilton's not the kind of guy that does the dirty work, or even orders the dirty work. No, he likes to keep his hands clean so he can play the "holier than thou" card."

"So what?"

"Maybe it's more political. Maybe someone on the senate appropriations committee knows about the Stargate Program and wants Hamilton's place as chairman."

"You mean someone who's in bed with the Trust."

"That's a logical assumption, isn't it?"

Barrett sighed before nodding.

"Any ideas?"

"If there is someone, General," Barrett said, soberly. "They're buried pretty deeply." He swallowed. "I haven't even heard that any of the other senators know what the Stargate program is."

"That's where we come in." Jack said, looking at Teal'c. "Maybe we can identify the Senator by talking to the aides who work for senators on the Appropriations committee."

Even Teal'c seemed somewhat skeptical.

"Look, Barrett, we've got to go," Jack said, just then.

"I understand." He said, nodding.

"Take care, okay?"

"Will do."

Teal'c followed as Jack left the room.

"T, we're calling the offices of the senators in DC." Jack said, soberly.

"For what reason?"

"To hopefully identify the voice that you heard in the alley." He said, soberly. "No senator does his own legwork."

Teal'c nodded with sudden understanding.

* * *

"Senator Guymon's office."

Teal'c nodded to Jack as he listened on the extension. "This is Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill. I'd like to speak with the Senator about the latest bill on military spending."

"The Senator is not in the office at the moment, General. I'm his aide, Edward Williams. If you tell me what you'd like to discuss, perhaps I can bring it up and have him call you back."

"No, it's okay." Jack said, shaking his head. "Maybe I'll catch Senator Guymon the next time he's at the Pentagon."

"All right," the aide said, somewhat puzzled.

"Have a nice day." Jack added as he hung up. "What about this one, T?"

"His voice was remarkably like that of the assailant in the alley."

"Bingo." Jack said with a self-satisfied smile.


	27. Reprieve

It was the pain in her neck which finally woke her. Sam pressed her hand to the back of her neck, seeing the white underneath her cheek as she opened her eyes. "You let me fall asleep?" She murmured as she looked over at Daniel who was reading one of the reports.

"You looked like you needed it." He said, soberly.

She stretched her neck to try and alleviate the ache that had awoken her.

"Jack called."

"Oh?"

"Apparently they've caught a break in the case. He says he thinks he'll be home this evening."

"Oh, that would be nice." Sam admitted.

"He's worried about you." Daniel said, setting down the report.

"What?" Sam asked, surprised.

"You've always been one to work without taking a break," he said, earnestly. "But I don't think this is healthy, and Jack's always been here to try and keep you from working yourself to death."

Sam sighed. "Has Cassandra been talking to you?"

"About Grace's vision that one day you'll die and how you're okay with that, and everything?"

"You did," she said, closing her eyes as she shook her head.

"Sam, just...have an exam. She'll feel better, and honestly, so will the rest of us."

"I'm fine." She insisted. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Daniel sighed. "Sam, you've been under a lot of stress. It's not like you to fall asleep in the middle of your work."

She threw him a pointed look. "It's not the first time it's happened, and I suspect it won't be the last."

"Sam..."

"Daniel, I'm fine. If...and that's a big if...I'm still feeling run down and tired after this is all over, then, I'll gladly turn myself over for a full examination and any tests that Cassandra wants to run."

"We'll hold you to that," Daniel said, looking over at his friend, seriously.

"I know." She said, forcing an amused smile to her lips. "Now, if you'll excuse me? I need to call my husband."

* * *

"O'Neill."

"I hear you called," Sam said with a faint smile. "And that you're probably going to be home tonight."

"I hear you fell asleep while you were working." He returned, soberly.

"Jack..." She murmured, threateningly.

"I just worry about you."

"Well, I'm fine. Just worried about you."

"Don't be." He said after a moment. "I just got confirmation from the DC branch of the CIA. They got the aide we were looking for. He's confessed to everything – even the threats against you. They've booked him. I'm actually driving home now."

"You don't sound as happy as I'd expect for someone who just solved a case for the CIA."

"The Senator denies any involvement, and I doubt the aide was doing anything on his own. What I learned from my time at the Pentagon was that aides take their jobs very seriously, and usually do things that Senator isn't willing to do himself. You know, all the dirty work..."

"So, why are you coming home?"

"Because I can't figure out a way to prove that the Senator IS involved, and when I started to try, I got a call from Frank. He said Senator Guymon's office is working too hard on damage control to make any moves one way or another, so he wants me off the case. He said he'll have agents keep tabs on Guymon's activities for the next while."

"So...hollow victory, hm?"

"Yeah." He said with a sigh.

"It's still a victory, though," she murmured, supportively.

"I suppose," he said, managing a smile.

"Everyone over here will be relieved to hear that you got the guy responsible for this whole mess." She said so that he could hear her smile. "Come home," she murmured, softly.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

"He's been arrested?" Cassandra asked, disbelieving.

"So I hear," Jack said, soberly, as he looked at the adults. "He'll plead guilty, and Teal'c won't even have to testify."

"Daddy!" Jacob cried, running up the stairs from the basement with his arms outstretched.

"Hey, buddy!" Jack grinned as he caught the enthusiastic five year old.

Grace stepped out of her bedroom upon hearing the ruckus. "Dad?"

"Hi, sweetie." He said, looking over at his daughter.

"Who got arrested?"

"The man who says he was in charge of this whole thing – the threats against your mom and everything."

"It's over?" She asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

Jack looked at his wife, managed a small half-smile and nodded. "Yep." He turned to the boy in his arms. "How about some football outside, sport?"

"It's cold," Jacob said, shivering theatrically.

"That's what coats are for," Jack said, tickling the boy's stomach with a teasing smile.

"And why Mom and Cassandra are going to be in the kitchen making cocoa," Sam laughed.

"Whaddaya say?" Jack asked, looking over at Grace.

She shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"I'm in," Charlie spoke up.

"As am I." Teal'c added.

"I'm headed home." Daniel said with a yawn.

"Thanks for your help," Sam said, looking over at her friend. "Tell Vala I'll call her. Maybe we can go shopping this weekend."

"She'll love that, though I'm sure my wallet won't," Daniel laughed. He leaned over and kissed her cheek before he waved at the group. "See you guys later!"

They watched Daniel leave before Jack put Jacob down. "Go get ready for football, kids."

"Come on, Jacob," Grace murmured, helping to herd her brother toward the coat closet. "Let's get you ready."

"I'm going to start the cocoa," Cassandra said, walking toward the kitchen.

"I'll help her." Charlie said, following.

"I will help Grace find young Jacob suitable winter wear," Teal'c said, following the O'Neill children.

Sam chuckled as she watched the family scatter. "I wonder who they think they're fooling," she asked, shaking her head.

"Not us," Jack said with a fond smile.

She turned to her husband. "This is over. At least for now, we're safe."

He nodded, slowly. "I know."

"It would be stupid of the Senator to make any moves while his aide's taking the wrap for him."

"I know that too." He said, nodding more surely.

His wife walked over, put her arms beneath his, and wrapped them around his shoulders as she leaned her cheek against his Adam's apple. "I missed you," she whispered as he brought his arms around to her waist.

"I missed you too." He admitted, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling how good it was to have her in his arms. "It may have only been for a couple of days, but it felt like a lifetime. Especially since I was worried about who would try to hurt you and the kids."

"I can take care of myself." She murmured without pulling away. "And I had Daniel here."

"Yes, but..."

"You worried." She whispered as she looked back up at him. "I know. It's not a bad thing."

He brought one hand up to run through her hair, tenderly. "I love you, Samantha Carter. And when I heard that some psycho had his sights on making you his next target just to make a point to the brass in Washington, I..." He choked up on the depth of his emotion.

"I know, Jack," she said, eyes shining.

"I've almost lost you so many times in my life," he said, almost trembling to keep himself together. "And if I'd ever..."

"You haven't." She whispered. "You could never."

He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms firmly around her as he kissed the top of her head.

"Daddy? Are you re..."

"Jacob," Grace called from the entryway as she saw her parents embrace. "Let's, uh...go outside and play with Doc. We'll wait for Dad outside."

"He just got home! What's he doing?" The five year old demanded.

"Come, young Jacob O'Neill," Teal'c commanded with his deep voice. "We shall wait for your father outside. Perhaps we shall practice your Jaffa Warrior Training."

"Yes!" The five-year-old cried as he ran out the door to the backyard.

Sam's laugh was muffled against her husband's chest, and even Jack smiled softly.

"I guess it's time," he said, pulling away from her reluctantly.

"I'll be here when you get back." She said, affectionately.

"Yes, you will." He said before he ducked his head and kissed her lightly on the lips. "And I pray God will keep it that way for a very long time."


	28. Back to Normal

"_Did you see My Mother: The Spy last night?"_

"_What?" Grace asked, looking over at her friend in confusion._

"_My Mother: The Spy..." She repeated. "Did you see it?"_

"_Oh," Grace said, shaking her head. "No."_

"_It was like the best episode they've had all season! First, Lucy's mom gets this death threat, and then, these agents show up to keep an eye on the family, and then, Lucy's dad shows up and he's a spy now too, and..."_

"_There's no way that would ever happen," Grace said, rolling her eyes._

"_Come on, Grace, the show isn't supposed to be realistic! If it was, it would be called reality TV, and I wouldn't like it anymore."_

_Grace shook her head with a small chuckle before she paused, having spotted Trevor._

"_Hey, Grace," he said, looking over at her._

"_Hi," she murmured, timidly._

"_So, my brother said he'll take us to the dance. Pick you up?"_

"_Uh-huh..." She whispered in awe._

"_Grace, I told you you're grounded," her mother said with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Trevor, but she can't come out tonight."_

"_Mom!" She cried, looking at her mother before she looked back at Trevor. "I'm sorry, she's..."_

"_Look, I gotta go," Trevor said with a disgusted look._

_She turned back to her mother. "I hate you!"_

_A shot came from nowhere and her mother crumpled to the ground, her eyes glazed over in death._

"_MOM!" She screamed, desperately._

"_It's all your fault, Grace," her father said, looking over at her hatefully, as he held her mother in his arms. "It was your mother's idea to adopt you, and it's your fault she's dead."_

"_I'm sorry," she whimpered as tears slipped down her cheeks. "I didn't mean it..."_

_Her father sighed as he caressed her mother's face._

Grace awoke with tears wetting her cheeks before she rolled over, wrapped her arms around her pillow and cried herself back to sleep.

* * *

A strange clanging awoke Sam, and she rolled over to her husband. "What's going on in the kitchen?" She asked, looking over.

"Dunno," he admitted, groggily. He rolled out of bed and onto the floor. "I'll check it out."

Sam smiled as he managed to get up off the floor and headed out of the master bedroom door.

"Jacob!" He cried in surprise.

"Jacob?" Sam asked, wakening more fully.

She hurried out of bed, throwing on a warm robe, before she walked out to the kitchen which was covered in flour, sugar, eggs, and milk. "Ho...ly...Hannah..." She murmured, eyes widening as she took in the whole sight.

Jacob stood in the center of the kitchen, his hands frozen midair like the frying pan which was suspended in air between the cabinet and the stovetop. The gas burner was on full, and almost every dish the O'Neills had ever owned were out on the floor and counters, filled with varying amounts of a nebulous egg, milk, flour, and sugar mixture. "What happened in here?" Sam asked, looking disbelievingly at her five-year-old.

"I wanted to make breakfast," he said with his lower lip trembling. "But I made a mess!"

"Oh, baby," Sam murmured with a small chuckle. "It's okay, but what do you think you can do next time?"

"I could ask you to come and help," he said, trying to be brave.

"You better believe it, buddy," Jack laughed as he picked the little boy up and tickled him. As his concentration broke, the frying pan fell to the ground with a bang. "Now, how are we going to fix this?"

"Maybe we could clean up and make breakfast together?" Jacob asked, hopefully. "Just you and me?"

"You read my mind," he said with a grin.

"Jack..." Sam protested.

"Go back to bed, hon. We've got it under control over here."

"Okay," she laughed.

"What happened?" Grace asked, poking her head out of her bedroom.

"Jacob and Dad are making breakfast." Sam said, looking over at her daughter. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said with a groan as she slipped back into her bedroom.

Sam shared a shrug with her husband before she walked over and kissed her husband's cheek and her son's forehead. "Well, I'm going to start getting ready for work. I trust you'll have breakfast ready when I'm finished?"

"You got it." Jacob said, offering his mother a thumbs-up.

She laughed, softly. "Have fun, kiddo."

* * *

"I should probably get to work early," Sam said as she took a bite of her pancakes. "Jack, can you drop the kids off at school?"

"Sure will." He said with a grin.

"We're going back to school?" Grace asked, gulping.

"Your dad got the bad guys, I don't see why we shouldn't all get back to normal." Sam said with a shrug.

She swallowed. "Uh...well...I'm behind on my school work..."

"That's why I'm going to drop Jacob off at Vala's, so she can take him to school, and I'll talk to your teachers and your principal and let him know what's been going on."

Grace managed a thin smile. "Sure. Great."

"It'll be okay," Sam said, patting her daughter's hand as she offered a supportive smile. "Maybe when we all get back from school, we'll have a game night."

"Okay," she sighed. "Game night...and school. This day just gets better and better..."

* * *

"Girl, it's about time you showed back up at school!" Makayla said, walking up behind Grace, as she put her backpack in her locker. "People were starting to talk about you being pregnant or in jail."

Grace jumped as she realized someone had been following her. "You scared me," she said, her voice shaking.

"You're awful jumpy , what's going on?" Makayla asked, looking at her friend, curiously.

"I'm fine," Grace lied, trying to hide her trembling hands. She turned slightly to find her father speaking with the principal and the SRO. That only made her a little less anxious about the day ahead.

"You sure?"

She nodded.

"You've been gone for a while. What happened?"

"Just...been sick..." Grace murmured, turning back to her locker.

"So, how's Trevor? Did you find a dress yet?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Grace murmured, clutching her math book and a notebook to her chest as she closed her locker door.

"Don't want to talk about it?" Makayla asked, raising an eyebrow. "The dance is this weekend! If you don't have something to wear, you're in trouble."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," she said, more forcefully.

"Fine." Makayla said, quieting instantly.

Grace walked down the crowded corridor to her math class. It was all a blur to her – a welcome, but somewhat intimidating blur.

"Grace!"

She tensed as she heard Trevor call for her. Pretending that she hadn't heard him, she ducked into her math classroom, grateful at once for the cover that the crowd had afforded.

"Why are you avoiding Trevor?" Makayla asked, instantly.

Grace was silent as she got to her seat.

"What's going on between the two of you?" She pressed. "Why aren't you thrilled about the fact that he asked you to Winter Wonderland?"

"Leave me alone," Grace mumbled, almost incoherently.

"You know, you used to be fun," Makayla said, a moment later, clearly hurt by Grace's emotional shove.

Yeah, and I didn't used to wonder if people were out to kill me or my parents, Grace thought grimly.

"Are you in this class?" A tall, lean man with curly black hair, green eyes and a well-trimmed goatee asked, causing everyone to look to the front of the room where Trevor stood, hurt by Grace's cold shoulder.

"No, sir," he mumbled, humbly, when he saw that Grace had turned her gaze the moment she'd realized it had been him at the door.

"Then, I suggest you get to class," the older man encouraged.

"Yes, sir." He said with a small sigh.

The tall man turned back to the class. "I assume you're all here for Mrs. Huffman's algebra class."

They all nodded.

"I'm Mr. McNamara. Mrs. Huffman was in a terrible car accident last night. She's in the hospital, and I'll be your substitute for the next few weeks while she recovers."

Grace's heart began to pound loudly in her ears.

"_Well, well, well," another man said, approaching her. "If I'd have known we'd have guests, I would have spruced the place up a bit."_

Her hands trembled at the memory of the voice and the face that had accompanied that poor young woman's last few moments. There he was – the goatee was new, and his eyes were green instead of blue, but it was him.

She sunk into her chair, hoping that he hadn't seen her. She won a look from Makayla.

"All right, let's see who's here," Mr. McNamara said with an amicable smile as he reached for the roll. "Tracy Anderson."

The cheerleader, dressed in her uniform with her red hair pulled into a half-ponytail with ribbons made of the school colors, raised her hand.

"Sara Carmichael?"

"Present." The blond, dressed in an almost Catholic school uniform, raised her hand, her long legs crossed to the side of the desk. "Present."

"Adam Clarkson?"

The boy in the back whose eyes were hooded beneath his long hair barely looked up in acknowledgment of the roll call.

Grace let her eyes dart about the room as she considered how she could get away from the substitute if he turned out to be a threat. They were in a second-story classroom, and the window wasn't real glass, but plexiglass that wouldn't break easily. She'd have to pass him in order to go out through the door.

Upon realizing that she was virtually trapped in the classroom, she felt her breathing shallow and quicken.

"Grace O'Neill."

Grace was almost gasping for air as the rest of the class turned back to look at her.

"Grace O'Neill?" The substitute asked, looking at her.

"That's Grace, there in the back." Sara said, and Grace couldn't help but see the smug look that she had on her face. She was always trying to get "in" with the teachers.

She felt light-headed. It was getting harder to process the air which entered her lungs too quickly.

The substitute stood up, and walked over to her, placing a gentle but unobtrusive hand on her shoulder. "Grace, are you okay?"

"Don't touch me, you bastard!" She screamed, kicking him in the shin before she jumped out of her desk, thrust her palm up against his nose, kneed him in the groin and after he doubled over, hit his back so that he would fall on his face.

The class sat in stunned silence before she ran out of the room.


	29. Principal's Office

"The exam went pretty well," Sam said, having handed out the graded exams to her students. "There were some rough spots across the board, but in general, I think you got a good handle on the material."

She reached for her glasses and put them on the bridge of her nose before she looked back up at the crowd. "Is there anyone in this class who made arrangements to take a makeup exam?"

None of the hands went up, and she exhaled in relief. "Okay. Problem number one..."

"Dr. Carter?"

Sam looked up, surprised at the interruption.

"Yes?"

Tunisia appeared in the doorway of the lecture hall. "There's an urgent call for you."

Sam's brow furrowed. Life had returned to normal after Jack had closed the investigation into Kerry Johnson's death. What could have changed? "I'll be right back. Tunisia, can you start going over the test?"

The TA nodded. "Sure."

Sam took off her glasses, quickly making her way toward her office. "Carter," she answered, quickly.

"Is this Grace O'Neill's mother?"

Sam's heart began pounding in worry. "Yes."

"This is Linda from Cheyenne Mountain Junior High. We have Grace here in the office."

"Is she okay?"

"She assaulted one of the substitute teachers in the building."

Sam's eyes widened. "What?"

"Your husband is already here, but we feel this is the type of matter that is best addressed with both parents."

"Of course." Sam said, nodding.

"The principal wants to meet with you and with Mr. McNamara as well as the School Resource Officer."

Sam swallowed. "The School Resource Officer?"

"I won't lie, Mrs. O'Neill," Linda said, soberly. "This could go on her criminal record – especially if Mr. McNamara chooses to press charges."

Sam's heart plummeted into her stomach. "I'll be right there," she said, soberly.

Instantly, she reached for a pen. Dr. Carter's Applied Science Classes Canceled Today, she scribbled. Then, she walked back into the lecture hall. "I need to cancel classes for the rest of the day," she announced, gravely. "I'll see you all on Thursday."

* * *

"Mrs. O'Neill," the principal greeted from the doorway to his office before Sam could sign in at the front desk. He motioned for her to follow him, and Sam could see her husband standing nervously at the other side of the room from the door.

She walked into the office before she noticed a tall, lean man with dark, curly hair, sitting with his back toward the door. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill," the principal began from behind the desk. "This is Aaron McNamara. Mr. McNamara, these are Grace O'Neill's parents, Jack and Samantha O'Neill."

Despite Sam's experience in the field, she felt herself get somewhat weak in the knee somewhat sickened at the unexpected sight of the impressive purple coloring that had already begun around the Caucasian man's bandaged nose.

"Mr. McNamara," Jack greeted solemnly, extending a hand as if the man's bruised face was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Mr. O'Neill," the teacher said, rising and accepting the retired general's hand. He turned his attention to Sam, gently shaking her hand. "Mrs. O'Neill."

"Mr. McNamara," Sam said with a somber smile. "How's the, uh," she pointed to her own nose though she looked at his.

"Broken," Aaron said with a slight grimace. "Your daughter's obviously seen Miss Congeniality, and improvised on the "S.I.N.G." method of self-defense."

Sam winced internally. "Sorry about that."

The young man shrugged her apology off. "It seemed like she was afraid of something. I served in Iraq, and I'd seen the look in her eyes a thousand times before. It was like when she started hyperventilating, she was having some sort of post-traumatic flashback."

Sam tensed, thinking about all the flashbacks she'd experienced, and that her friends and family had experienced, and that she'd witnessed. She'd hoped to save all of her children from any of those experiences, especially her tenderhearted thirteen-year-old daughter who'd already seen so much.

"Miraculously," the principal interrupted. "Mr. McNamara has declined at this time to press charges."

"Thank you," Jack murmured, gratefully.

"Like I said," Aaron said with a shrug. "It seems like she's really suffering. Has something traumatic happened to her recently?"

Sam looked at her husband, knowing instantly that unless they were careful about what they said, they could either endanger their daughter's life or give the school officials a reason to question the O'Neills' fitness as parents.

"As retired Air Force generals, we both made a lot of enemies," Jack said, carefully. "As I was trying to explain this morning to both the SRO and the School counselor, my wife's life was threatened by a rogue group of individuals with ties to the NID and the CIA. The threat has recently been neutralized, but it's been hard on all of us."

Sam turned to the principal. "She's begun seeing a therapist recently, and I think it's time that we made another appointment."

"Perhaps it would also be wise if she refrained from attending school until she is capable, once again, of conducting herself appropriately in the classroom setting."

The O'Neills instantly recognized the statement as an order and not a mere request, and Sam swallowed down rage. "You may be right," Sam admitted, coolly. "But I think we'd like to consult her therapist before we make any definite plans."

Jack nodded his agreement.

Knowing that the retired Brigadier General's answer was a both a diplomatic compromise and a veiled threat that legal action would be taken if there was any sort of discrimination against the student, the principal nodded. "Of course."

"Where's Grace?" Jack asked, almost ignoring the game of hardball his wife had just won.

"Right now, she's with the school counselor."

"We'd like to take her home," Sam said, simply. She stood, though she almost didn't remember sitting down. She turned to the substitute with a warmer smile. "Thank you very much, Mr. McNamara, for understanding."

"You're very welcome," he said with a charming smile of his own.

She and Jack stepped out of the principal's office to find their daughter, sitting on a chair just inside the reception office. Sam crouched down in front of her. "Hi, angel," she murmured, studying the teenager carefully.

The diminutive young woman's brown curly hair was hanging limply around her face as though it was as worn as the rest of her. Her eyes, blue like her adopted mother's, were hooded and almost unseeing. She didn't even react when her mother touched her tepid hands.

The sight of Grace sitting with her hands clasping the armrests of the chair as if her very life depended on it, made Sam think of when she'd walked into the VIP quarters to find Daniel catatonic after one of his encounters with Hathor. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

"Grace," Jack said, crouching down beside his wife. "We're going to take you home, okay?"

Grace's lower lip trembled and her hands began to shake.

"Grace, honey," Sam whispered, placing a comforting hand on her daughter's arm.

Instantly, Grace threw her arms around her mother's neck, pressing her face into the crook of Sam's neck to muffle the sounds of the sobs that came pouring out of her. Sam held her tightly, looking over at her husband before she lifted the thirteen-year-old up like she would have picked little Jacob up if he'd been sleeping in the backseat of the car.

Suddenly, she was grateful that Grace was not much heavier than her muscular younger brother. Sam carried her toward the reception desk. "We're signing her out," Sam said, her voice leaving no room for discussion.

"Yes, ma'am," the receptionist said, offering Jack the sign-out record to fill out.

Jack quickly did so before he turned to his wife. "Do you want me to..."

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I've got her."

Jack nodded before leading her back out to the car, aware that the other teenagers in the junior high who were going to their other classes were staring at them. He ignored the looks, opening the door for his wife and daughter.


	30. Shock

"Dr. O'Neill?"

Cassandra looked up from her desk at the Academy Hospital to see her nurse/receptionist poking her head inside.

"Yes?" She asked, curiously.

"You have a patient."

"Thank you," she said, standing with the effort required for a six-month pregnant woman, carrying twins to get out of the ergonomic office chair that Charlie had made for her. "Who is it?"

"Grace O'Neill."

She looked over in surprise. "What?"

"Her parents said she got into a scuffle at school and has been practically catatonic since."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like Grace," she murmured as she hurried to the examination room she used for her private patients.

Sure enough, there were Jack and Sam standing beside Grace, who sat silently on the examination table.

"What's going on?" She asked, worriedly.

"Grace hit one of the substitute teachers at school today, but she's not telling us what happened." Sam said, clearly worried herself.

"She seems to be in shock," Cassandra said, walking over and beginning a preliminary examination. "Grace?"

The girl looked up, almost seeming lost in the expanse of space.

"Would you like a warm blanket?" She asked, compassionately. "Would that help you feel warmer?"

Grace nodded, slowly, though the effort showed Cassandra that she was trembling with the shock of what had just occurred. Cassandra looked back at the O'Neills. "I'm going to get a nurse to get her a warm blanket, and I'll be right back."

They nodded, numbly.

She walked out into the corridor. "Can I get some warm blankets for my patient in exam room 7?"

The nurse at the nurse's station nodded, and Cassandra walked back to the exam room. "Okay, I've got a warm blanket coming. Now, let's see what's going on." Cassandra murmured, somewhat comfortably. She looked Grace in the eyes. "Grace, you're safe now. It's just me and your parents."

Grace's gaze darted over to where her parents stood before she looked back at Cassandra.

"Grace, what happened? It's not like you to hurt anyone, and we just wanted to know what changed."

Grace closed her eyes tightly and began rocking back and forth with her hands wrapped around her knees. Cassandra looked over at Sam and Jack with a sad look as the nurse walked in. "Warm blanket, doctor?"

Cassandra nodded. "Thank you."

Together, they wrapped it around Grace before the nurse left the room.

Cassandra turned back to Sam and Jack. "What on Earth happened?" She asked, quietly. "I've never seen anyone this bad...and you know where I work..."

Sam nodded. "I've only been that way once...and someone had messed with my brain."

Jack nodded, solemnly, remembering the anguish that had overtaken them when they'd thought that Daniel had been engulfed in fire in their first year together as a team. "And even then, you were talking." He added, softly.

Sam sighed, softly. "As for what happened..."

"Grace hit her substitute teacher. The rest of the class didn't see any provocation or anything, but her friend, Makayla, said she'd begun to hyperventilate."

Cassandra's brow furrowed.

Jack shrugged. "Apparently, the substitute was calling roll, he got to Grace's name, she didn't answer, the rest of the class pointed her out to him, and he walked over to see if she was okay."

"Which is when Grace improvised on the S.I.N.G. Method of self-defense from "Miss Congeniality", and broke her substitute's nose."

"The students say that her actions were accompanied with a "Don't touch me, you bastard!"." Jack added.

"Have you made an appointment with Jeffrey?" Cassandra asked, soberly. "I mean, I'm willing to do what I can, but at this point, I don't know what else to do except perhaps sedating her which I think would do more harm than good right now."

Sam nodded.

"We called Jeffrey." Jack nodded. "That's actually the reason we're here, but we got here a little on the early side, and we thought we'd get a physical...just in case."

"Normally, with a patient this withdrawn," Cassandra said, slowly. "And with the circumstances you've just described, I'd check for physical signs of trauma...but you have a room full of eyewitnesses that saw not even the slightest provocation, so unless this guy has some sort of telekinetic power..."

"You think it's all in her head." Sam said, soberly.

"In that she may have had a vision and knows something we don't know?" Cassandra asked. "Yes. In that she's crazy?" She shook her head. "Never." Cassandra looked at the door, biting her lip for a moment. "Let me call Jeffrey. Maybe he'd be willing to come in on a consult."

"You don't think Grace will tell him anything?"

"Right now, I don't think she can tell us anything." Cassandra said, seriously. "She's in shock, which means that her body is slowly shutting down. Now, what I'm going to do is admit her into the hospital so that we can keep her under observation. Once we get her stabilized, maybe she'll be able to and willing to open up."

Sam looked like she was about to cry from exhaustion and worry, and Jack wrapped an arm around her in an attempt to comfort her.

"She's going to be okay," Cassandra assured. "It's just going to take some time."

Jack managed a thin smile as she left to make the arrangements she'd just planned, but it fell from his face almost the instant she left the room. "There's something off about this whole thing," Jack murmured. "And I can't put my finger on it."

"Yes, there's something off about this," Sam said, nodding. "Our perfectly passive daughter just hit her substitute teacher. And now, she's talking even less than she was before!"

"Sam, I was there when they got the call in the office that they'd need a substitute. It was because her teacher was in a car accident. This morning. On her way to school."

Sam swallowed. "Th-that could be coincidence..."

"After the threats against you, and the NID conspiracy to keep our family under surveillance?" He asked, skeptically. "I highly doubt it."

She tensed.

"None of the ladies in the office knew this substitute, but he had all the credentials they needed to call him, and he was the first on the list, apparently."

"You think it was all set up..."

"H-he...was the man who killed..." Grace began, her voice trembling from where she sat on the exam table. "Wh-who killed that girl...in my vision..."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, looking over at her daughter.

"H-he changed his hair color, I think...and he...he grew a goa...tee..." She was shaking. "Why can't I stop shaking?" She asked, pulling the blanket closer around her.

Sam sat beside her daughter and wrapped an arm around her to share her body heat. "We think you're in shock. Don't worry, it will pass."

Grace nodded, looking at her mother.

"What else?" Jack pressed, gently.

"I...I think he's wearing colored contacts...his eyes...they were a different...different color."

Cassandra walked back into the room. "I've called Jeff..." She looked over at Grace. "Grace? How are you feeling?"

She shivered. "I'm...I'm f-fine..."

"I've already got another warm blanket coming." Cassandra said, comfortingly.

"Th-thank you." She managed through chattering teeth.

"What about Jeffrey?" Jack asked, returning to the matter at hand.

"He's got patients for another hour or two, but his plan is stop by as soon as he's finished. We can either admit her for observation, or you can come and stay in my office until he's ready."

Sam looked at her daughter for a moment. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

The nurse arrived with a quick knock on the door. Cassandra stepped over to the door and opened it. "Thank you." She said, accepting the warm blanket. She walked back over to Grace and wrapped it around her. "Here you go."

The teenager smiled her thanks as she pulled it closer to her body.

"Learn anything?" Cassandra asked, looking at Jack and Sam.

"We're not sure," Sam admitted.

"It seems that he was in one of the visions Grace had a few weeks ago that really scared her."

"Oh?" Cassandra asked, looking from Jack to Grace.

Grace swallowed. "I had this vision of these teenagers...they were in a warehouse, and they really shouldn't have been there, but..." She had stopped shaking as violently, but it was clear that she was still worried. "They killed her boyfriend, and then they killed her. He'd changed his look, but he was the guy in my vision. He was the guy who pulled the trigger."

"Wow." Cassandra murmured, shaking her head. She turned to Sam and Jack. "Did you call the police?"

"What would they say?" Grace asked with a sigh. "I barely know the girl's boyfriend's first name. I don't even know where they were or anything like that."

"We can still call Agent Barrett," Sam said with a thoughtful look in her eyes. "Maybe he can run a background check on the substitute."

"But if he's really as professional as he sounds," Jack began with a small sigh. "It could be a shot in the dark."

"Until we figure out who he really is, you're not going to be going to school." Sam said, soberly. "We'll be making arrangements to get your assignments."

Jack nodded in agreement. "We call Barrett. We wait for the results of the background check. And you work on your assignments at home while we wait."

Sam looked over at her daughter, compassionately. "And we're going to do everything we can think of to help you feel better."

Grace managed a grateful smile as she leaned against her mother for comfort.


	31. Regrets

"Jeffrey wants to talk to her alone." Sam said, walking out of the therapist's office.

"Yeah?" Jack asked, surprised.

She nodded. "I think his hope is that they'll make more progress if Grace doesn't feel like she's being judged or punished for what she says."

He shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

Sam nodded. "Anything that will get this stuff off her chest."

"I'm going to call Barrett and see if he can get on that background check asap." Jack said, reaching for his cell phone.

She nodded in agreement.

"Put me through to Malcolm Barrett's room, please." He murmured after dialing. He waited for a moment, aware that his wife was watching him closely. "Barrett, it's Jack O'Neill. I need a favor."

Sam almost cringed at the sound of Jack's request. They'd asked so many favors already. Surely even the good graces of Malcolm Barrett were getting taxed.

"I need you to look up an...Aaron McNamara. He's apparently a substitute at Cheyenne Mountain Middle School, but to be honest, we're not sure he is who he says he is."

Jack paused for a moment. "Uh...I don't have much more than that. Grace might be able to help us get a sketch of him that you can run in a facial recognition program, but..."

Remembering that some of the best lies had elements of truth in them, Sam touched her husband's arm. "He said he served in the Gulf."

"Oh," Jack said, nodding his gratitude. "And he said he served in the Gulf."

Jack paused again, and Sam could hear Malcolm's protests from where she stood beside her husband. "I'm sure you've gone on a lot less, Barrett."

Sam sighed, softly, before her eyes lit up. "Look for any pairs of teenagers that were shot and killed around abandoned warehouses in the last couple of weeks. Then, look for sightings of Aaron McNamara in the area."

Jack nodded. "Hey, Barrett, we may have something else for you to go on. We believe McNamara was involved in shooting a young teenaged couple in an abandoned warehouse...there may be ties to the Senate aide we just arrested." Jack sighed. "Never mind how we got this information. Just...look into it, okay?"

"Thanks." Jack murmured just before he hung up the phone.

"He's going to look into it?"

Jack nodded with a grim demeanor. "He says it's not a lot to go on, but he'll do his best."

Sam nodded, not bothering to say anything about hearing the conversation. She studied him for a moment, aware that the last few days had been taxing on them all. "How're you feeling?" She asked, looking up at him as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He looked at her with genuine surprise as he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm fine."

She looked at his chest, putting her left hand just over his heart to feel the steady beat of the blood pulsing in and out of his heart, remembering standing only a few floors down at the emergency wing of the academy hospital nearly six years ago as she waited to find out whether or not he had survived from his stress-induced heart attack.

With a tender smile, her husband reached his right hand up and onto her left hand, gently wrapping his fingers around hers. He brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles before he looked down at her. "It's beating just as steady as it was after they stabilized me," he murmured with assurance. "And six years of your heart healthy cuisine will keep me here for a long while yet."

"Some people would be surprised to find that you're alive in spite of my cooking," she chuckled. "Let alone because of it."

Jack smiled before he studied her. "How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Worried," she admitted. "But I had a good night's sleep last night and the threat is more definitive now. I'm fine."

"So much for taking a weekend away from the kids," he said, soberly.

"I'm sorry that didn't work out."

Jack waved away his wife's apology. "It's not like we've missed our only opportunity to get away. Hopefully by the time our anniversary comes in two months, we'll have this whole thing wrapped up, and we can go fishing..."

"Hm," Sam murmured from where she stood in the protective embrace of her husband. "That would be nice."

"Of course, I reserve the right to kidnap you and take you wherever I choose without any official or unofficial notice." Jack winked. "Who knows? I might change my mind about wanting to suffer through the cold in Minnesota in January, and take you to the Bahamas."

She grinned. "You wouldn't hear any complaints from me," she quipped, jovially.

"Nine years," Jack said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can you believe it's been nine years?"

"No," she said with a mischievous smile. "Sometimes it feels like it's been an eternity."

Jack laughed, amicably, before he relaxed into a soft, reminiscent smile. "Sometimes it seems like just yesterday we met in the briefing room at the SGC. Other times, it seems like we've always been married."

She grew thoughtful for a moment. "What's that line Charles Dickens wrote?" She murmured, pensively. "It was the best of times...it was the worst of times..."

Jack nodded, slowly. "But I wouldn't change it. Not for all the tea in China..."

Sam looked back at the door behind which her daughter sat, talking to a therapist about her complicated and unfairly dramatic life.

"She's going to come out all right." Jack assured, softly. "It will be a long road, and she'll probably do a fair bit of crying, but she will be okay."

"I was going to protect my kids from all of this," she whispered. "At least, that's what I told myself when I was still out in the field. There were lots of reasons that I didn't want to marry Pete – at least, not really – but the one in particular was that I didn't think my work was finished...and I couldn't bear to drag children into a world where they could be used as pawns by the Trust or the NID to get a certain...reaction from me."

She sighed. "And now, I'm retired, and both the Trust and the NID and whoever else there is out there is involved in some conspiracy to kidnap my children, and learn their secrets."

"We all knew when we got involved with the Program that we'd never really be free of it." Jack said, soberly. "That's the nature of classified work. That's the price we paid to see the marvelous things we've seen..."

Sam swallowed. "You said you wouldn't change a bit of your life, and there's part of me that wants to say I'm with you...one-hundred percent."

"But?"

"But then, I see what my choices are putting my daughter through...and Jacob's so private with his real thoughts that...God only knows what our choices have put him through!"

"We're not the bad guys here, Sam." Jack said, firmly. "We're not the ones endangering them."

Sam sighed. "No. We're not." She said, shaking her head. "But we're still the ones they're trying to elicit a reaction from. We're the ones who have some...inexplicable say in whatever destiny they're trying to change."

"Sam, they're playing with fire. They think they know what they're up against, but they haven't even got the slightest idea."

"And we do?" She demanded. "Jack, how many people have to die – how many fall-guys do they have to set up – before we realize that we're not just dealing with a handful of rogue agents! We're talking about businessmen who could buy the entire staff of Area 51 if they really wanted to. We're talking about politicians who have been bought by these same businessmen. We're talking about scientists..." She swallowed bile at the thought. "Who would do anything for a few dollars and some infamy." She pulled away from him. "You may think you know what it's like to feel powerless against these people, but..." She paused. "You don't know what these people are willing to do like I do."

"Hey," Jack murmured, reaching out to her.

She shrugged off his attempt as she tensed. "I have to call the university...I have a feeling that I'm taking an emergency sabbatical until we can figure all of this out."

"Sam..."

She brushed past him, reaching into her pocket for her cell as the door to Grace's therapist's office opened.

"Mr. O'Neill..."

"Doctor..."

"Just call me Jeffrey." The man said with a smile.

"Okay." Jack said, nodding. "Jeffrey, how's my girl?"

"Shaken up." He admitted. "But given what happened, I'm not at all surprised. I'd like to see her in a couple of days."

Jack nodded. "My wife handles all of the calendar things, but she just ran off, so..."

"Just give me a call," he said, handing Jack his card. "I'll rearrange my schedule if I need to."

"I'm sure that's not..." Jack began.

"Mr. O'Neill, your daughter is a special girl." He said, quietly. "But she's on the verge of a breakdown, the likes of which I'm not sure I've ever seen in a girl her age." His face was sober. "Right now, she's my highest priority. If you need anything – day or night – I want you to call me."

Jack nodded as Grace approached them, shuffling slowly toward the door. "Thank you."

"We'll see you in a couple days, okay, Grace?" Jeffrey said, looking over at his patient.

She nodded, slowly. "Okay."


	32. Friends

The ride home was quiet with Grace idly looking out the window in the backseat while her mother did the same in the front passenger's seat. Jack reached a hand over to his wife, and she turned a small smile back to find him offering her a supportive smile of his own as he squeezed her hand.

"Do you have any friends you'd like us to call?" Sam asked, looking back at her daughter. "I'm sure your friends are worried about you."

Grace barely looked at her mother before returning her gaze to the scenery outside the window.

"You're not being punished, Grace," Sam reassured. "We understand how scared you were. We want you to feel safe. So, if you want to invite some friends over, you're welcome to do so."

Still, Grace did not respond.

"Maybe Makayla would like to come over tomorrow after school..."

"I don't have any friends!" Grace snapped, angrily. "So just drop it, okay?"

"What happened with you and Makayla?" Sam asked, more sympathetically. "I thought you two were best friends."

"Yeah, well...she doesn't like me anymore." Grace managed as a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Sam's heart broke. Not only was she dealing with the trauma of having recognized a possible hired gun, but she was also dealing with a broken friendship.

"Maybe if you give it a little time before you call her up, it will all..."

"Don't you get it?" Grace demanded, angrily, as they pulled up to the house. "I don't want to talk about it! LEAVE ME ALONE!" She opened the door, hopped out of the car, and slammed the door behind her.

Sam flinched as she heard the door slam.

"She's still processing. We'll let her calm down, and we'll talk to her later."

Sam nodded, slowly.

"I know what you were talking about, you know," he said, soberly. "When we were at the hospital..."

Sam tensed.

"Adrian Conrad is dead, Sam. So is Simmons."

"I know." She admitted.

"And both of the scientists got life without parole for what they tried to do."

"I know that too."

"We got you before they could do any lasting damage to your brain."

"I know that too," Sam said, her voice taking on a bit of an edge.

"Even the goa'uld that Conrad stole is dead."

"It's not rational for me to be thinking about this right now!" She acknowledged. "But I am!" She swallowed, looking almost sick as she did so. "I have this...image...in my mind. As clear as any of Grace's visions. I see...Grace locked up in this room without any windows and...she's interrogated before these guys make any moves. And I see Jacob in another room, strapped to a table with electrical nodes on his forehead. And he's..." Her voice hitched. "He's...so scared..."

"Stop," Jack said, touching his wife's hand. "This isn't..."

"The point is, Jack," she interrupted in frustration. "That I can think like these people! They're..." She swallowed, as if doing so would keep her from vomiting. "They're sci..."

"They might have been scientists." Jack said, soberly. "But you are nothing like them."

"If I was a biologist or a geneticist..." She said with a sigh.

"You would never do anything that is morally ambiguous." He finished.

She laughed, wryly. "Never is a strong word, Jack. Don't you remember disobeying orders because we were so overconfident that we were going to save the world?"

"We did save the world." He reminded her.

"Not before putting ourselves at risk." She said with a small sigh. "Not without exposing the Tok'ra High Councilor and the President to an assassination attempt."

"That was ONE time." Jack protested.

"And what about the time that we gated onto Apophis's ship? And almost got stuck there..."

"Sam, we did a lot of things back then." He said, exasperated. "What do you want me to do? Go back in time and change all of that?"

"No." She said, shaking her head. "It would be...I just wish I'd known that I was giving up my future children's safety when I joined the Stargate program."

Jack sighed softly before he reached for her hand. "You feel guilty because you're a scientist and you've been in the military...and some of the people who would consider themselves your colleagues are thinking about taking your children."

"It's more than that, Jack." Sam said, thickly. "If they have the resources I think they might have...they might use technology that I helped to create to influence the...outcome of their experiments."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Like what?"

She swallowed. "When Jacob first showed his powers, I was thinking about it...and I think it might disrupt his ability to use his telekinetic powers."

"Are you kidding?" Jack asked, his eyes widening. "And you didn't mention that?"

"I was hoping we'd never have to find out!" She cried. "And to be honest, I was only thinking about it for the last few days. I mean, the Ori were basically the same as the Ancients, and you passed on your Ancient gene to..."

"Get to the point, Sam!" Jack growled.

Sam tensed. "If they have the resources I think they might have, they could...use my own device against him. And who knows what it would do to Grace..."

Jack rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes as he digested what she'd just told him. "And here I was feeling the slightest bit calmer because of Jacob's telekinesis. Not to mention that Grace hasn't exactly disappointed with sharing her visions..."

"If anything ever happened to them, and I found out that..." She bit her lip as she tried to hold her emotions in.

"Hey!" Jack interrupted, fiercely. "If you made those devices, you can figure out a way to stop those devices. And if we're so similar to the people who are planning to take our kids, we can stop them from doing so."

Sam sniffed, nodding quickly, as she had done when they'd been teammates, and he'd promised he that they'd get out of their seemingly hopeless situation.

"We're not going to just lie down and wait for what seems inevitable." He said, earnestly. "We're not wired that way. We fight."

"Yes, we do." She managed, shakily.

"If we can save the world together, we can save our kids from it."

She smiled, soberly. "You better believe it."

"Now, come on." He said with a supportive smile. "Let's go see our little Jaffa Jedi and our Fortune Teller."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Jack..."

He grinned.

* * *

"Knock, knock," Sam murmured, opening her daughter's bedroom door.

Grace looked up with a sullen look on her face. "What?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Sam said, taking a step further into the room. "Do you mind if I come in?"

Grace sighed, softly before she put the book she was reading on her nightstand. "Fine."

Sam looked over at the book with a small smile. "_Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. That was your dad's favorite one."

"That's what he said," Grace said, softly. Then, she looked at her mother. "Did you come to discuss what I'm reading?"

Sam shook her head. "Though I have been meaning to read the series...at least so I can get involved in those conversations that Cassie and your dad have."

"There's too much magic and not enough science for you, Mom," Grace said, wryly.

Sam smiled, softly, before she sobered. "What's going on at school, Grace?"

"That's a loaded question," Grace murmured with a wry chuckle.

"I mean with your friends." Sam said, softly.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said with a sigh. "I don't have any friends."

"Grace, I know you don't want to talk about it, but you need to talk about it. What happened?"

"Makayla just don't understand!" She cried, exasperated. "She thinks I'm weird, but she talks about this TV show that's like...our life on steroids!"

Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"It's this...teenage soap opera called _My Mother: the Spy_."

"And with the last few days, life's been feeling pretty overly dramatic, hm?" Sam asked with understanding.

Grace bit her lip. "Look, she just doesn't get it. Nobody does."

"Did you try to explain it to her?" Sam asked, helpfully.

Grace rolled her eyes. "You don't get it either."

"I know that no one can read your mind," Sam murmured after a moment. "And that your friends are probably just as confused about what's going on as you are."

Grace grew thoughtful as Sam stood. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Your dad's making curry...so it'll be nice and spicy."

Grace couldn't help but smile at her mother's grimace. "Okay..."

"I love you, angel," Sam said, affectionately.

"Love you too, Mom."

* * *

"I brought you some hot chocolate," Sam said, lifting the steaming mug so that her daughter could see it.

"Thanks, Mom," she said, shifting her weight slightly so that her mother could sit beside her.

Sam walked over and offered her the cocoa as they looked over at the fire Jack had started in the fireplace after dinner. "You feeling a little better?"

"I'm fine, Mom," she said, softly.

"How's the book?"

Grace shrugged as she sipped at her hot chocolate. "It's okay."

The doorbell rang, and Grace looked up in surprise.

"I'm gonna go get the door," Sam said, standing. "But I'll be right back."

Grace nodded slowly, returning her attention to the book in her hands.

Sam walked over to the door, and opened it. To her surprise, there at the door stood a young man about Grace's age with chestnut-colored hair in a black suit with a red shirt and red tie. In his hands, he carried a singular red rose. "Hello?"

"Hello, ma'am," he said, politely. "Is this the O'Neill house?"

She nodded, slowly.

"My name is Trevor Knight. Is Grace here?"

Sam nodded before she stepped away from the door to grant the young man entrance into the house. "Come on in, Trevor."

Sam turned to face the living room where her daughter was looking up in absolute surprise. "Grace, I think it's for you," Sam said with a small smile on her face as Trevor appeared beside her.

Grace bit her lip, nervously, as she sat up and slipped a single strand of hair behind her ear. "Hi, Trevor," she said with a timid smile.

"Hi, Grace." He said with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders tense with his own nervousness. "I, uh...I heard about what happened at school, and I...I wanted to see if you were okay."

"Thank you," she said, standing. "I'm, uh, I'm okay."

"Trevor, would you like some hot chocolate?" Sam asked from where she stood in the entryway of the living room.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, nodding in gratitude.

"I haven't heard so many ma'ams since I was in the Air Force," she teased. "Just call me Sam."

"I don't think my Mom would like that." He admitted.

"Mrs. O'Neill then," Sam said, brightly.

"Yes, ma'am." He said before he coughed. "Uh...Mrs. O'Neill."

Sam smiled in amusement. "I'll be right back."

Grace rolled her eyes as her mother left the room. "I'm sorry about that..."

He shrugged. "It's okay. My mom's the same way." He swallowed. "Sounded like you were really scared today." He said, earnestly.

"Yeah, well...things have been kind of...weird around here." She said with a shrug. "My mom got some death threats, and well, we've been watched around the clock since she got them."

"Did they find out who was sending them?" Trevor asked, clearly concerned.

She shook her head. "Not yet. They're still working on it."

"Well, she's a nice lady," he said, looking back toward the direction Sam had left. "I hope they figure it out soon."

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile.

* * *

Sam couldn't help but smile as she passed her husband in the kitchen.

"Who was at the door?" Jack asked, curiously.

"One of Grace's friends." Sam said with a teasing smile.

"Oh? I thought she didn't have any friends," Jack said with a wry grin.

"Oh, it's not Makayla." Sam said with a smile. "It's a, uh, young man in her class, Trevor."

"And he's here?" Jack asked, surprised. "Maybe he really likes her."

She nodded. "The kid was really nervous," she laughed, softly. "Couldn't stop saying "yes, ma'am," to me."

Jack grinned. "My kind of guy."

"He seems sweet." Sam said, honestly.

"Well, maybe I should go and meet this kid."

Sam smiled as she finished making the cocoa. "Take this in. I promised it to Trevor."

"Yes, ma'am," he teased as he accepted the mug.

He walked into the living room where Grace and Trevor were talking fairly easily. "You must be Trevor."

The teens jumped at the sound of his voice, and Trevor nodded. "Uh, yes, sir. I am." He stood, and extended his hand to the older man. "You must be Mr. O'Neill."

Jack looked at his hand and then at the boy for a moment before he thrust the mug of cocoa into the outstretched hand. "That's General O'Neill, son."

Grace cringed inwardly, certain that Trevor would never want to come back to her house again.

"General, sir." He said, soberly.

"How'd you get here?" Jack asked, sitting down in the seat beside the couch.

"Uh, I just live down the street, sir. I told my mother I was going to visit Grace, and she said that would be okay as long as I be back home in an hour."

Grace was sitting on the couch, shielding her eyes with one hand in embarrassment. "Dad..."

"I'm just leaving," he said, standing again. "Nice to meet you, Taylor."

"Trevor," Grace corrected with a sigh.

"Sorry. Trevor." He said, walking out of the living room with a small smirk on his face.

"I am so sorry," she apologized instantly.

He managed a faltering grin. "It's okay. My dad used to do that with my older sisters."

"He doesn't any more?"

Trevor's eyes grew sad. "Uh...my dad, uh...he died."

"I'm so sorry," Grace said, apologetically. "I...I didn't know."

He shrugged. "Not very many people do."

"What happened?" She asked, gently.

"He was a scientist with the Air Force. Stationed at NORAD, studying deep-space radar telemetry."

* * *

Jack's ears picked up at the sound of his old cover story. He walked more quickly into the kitchen. "Sam?"

"Hm?" She asked, turning around from where she was doing the dishes.

"What's that kid's last name?"

"Knight."

"You ever work with a scientist named Knight?"

She turned around, and rested her back against the counter as she thought. "Uh...one...a, uh...Major Carl Knight." She finally said after a few moments. "Why?"

"He just said that his dad was a scientist with the Air Force, who was stationed at NORAD studying deep-space radar telemetry."

"I haven't seen him lately," Sam said, shaking her head. "I mean, we used to work together on a few projects. He was on...uh...let me think...SG...18, I think. Whenever it was an all-hands-on-deck kind of emergency, he was there."

Jack sighed. "He also said his dad died."

Sam's face grew sad as she thought for a few moments. Finally, her jaw tensed emotionally. "I remember why we haven't worked together. I had to visit his wife when I was in command. There was an explosion off-world, and..." She grew quiet. "Well, he didn't make it. He left behind a wife and three kids. Two girls and a boy."

She swallowed as she thought about the young man in the living room. "That poor kid," she whispered as she returned to the dishes. It was only a few minutes before she'd finished the last dish. "I'm going to head downstairs to see how Jacob's doing. You wanna stay up here and keep an ear out for those two?"

Jack nodded.

* * *

Sam walked into the basement where Jacob was watching TV with Doc sitting beside the petite five-year-old who was practically swallowed up by the depth of the couch cushions and overshadowed by the golden retriever who had Jacob's hand deeply entwined in his fur. She smiled, softly. "Hi, kiddo." She murmured as she looked over at him.

"Mom!" He called, excitedly.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked, glancing over at the TV.

"_Star Wars: The Clone Wars_." He said as his mother walked over to sit beside him.

"Oh?" She asked with an amused smile.

He nodded as he retracted his hand from Doc's fur, wiggled out of his seat and over to his mother where he crawled up and sat on her lap. She wrapped her arms around her little boy's waist as he put his arms around his mother's neck. With the affection that only little boys could offer his mother, he planted a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, baby," she returned as she kissed his cheek.

"I'm not a baby." He groused, causing his mother to touch his sandy hair with a smile that revealed her mixed emotions.

"No, you're not," she whispered. She swallowed before managing a smile. "How was kindergarten?"

"It was great!" He cried, excitedly. "We played kick ball! It's so fun! I love kick ball! They throw the ball, and you kick it, and then, you run as fast as you can...It's great!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," she smiled.

"And then, there's Macey. She's my bestest friend in the whole wide world!"

"Really?" Sam asked, her eyes wide in interest.

"I'm gonna marry her." He confided.

"Then, I suppose we'll have to meet her," Sam said with a grin.

"She'll have to ask her mommy," he said, soberly.

Sam kissed the top of his head. "I sure love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Mommy." He said, snuggling up to her.

* * *

"I'll call you." Trevor said as he and Grace stood at the front door.

"I'd like that." She said as a light blush spread over her cheeks.

He looked at her for a moment before he quickly leaned in and kissed her cheek. She smiled, softly, as he looked back at the street. "I'd better go. My mom's gonna start to worry soon."

"Bye, General O'Neill, sir," Trevor called before he turned back to Grace. "Bye, Grace."

"Bye, Trevor," she said with a small smile on her lips.

He returned it as he hurried down the steps toward his own house.

"So...that was Trevor," Jack said as Grace shut the door.

Grace swallowed down her amusement as she nodded, timidly. "Yeah."

"Nice kid."

"Thanks."

"And you think he's cute?"

She shrugged.

"He seems to like you." He prompted.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't know I'm a freak, so..."

"Hey." Jack interrupted. "You're not a freak."

"I can see the future. I don't sleep, and I just kicked the crap out of my substitute teacher." She sighed. "I'm a freak, Dad."

Jack stepped out of the kitchen and toward the living room. "Come here," he murmured, guiding his daughter toward the couch.

"What?" She asked, following him.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're a freak. You're not a freak." He said, earnestly. "You have some special talents."

She scoffed. "Talents?"

"C'mere," Jack said, pulling her onto his lap as he would have done when she was younger.

She tried to pull away, but he was stronger than she was, and gently, but firmly, kept her from leaving. "I know how hard it is to be a teenager." Jack said, soberly. "It may have been a while since I was one, but that doesn't mean that I forgot."

She sighed in resignation as she stopped fighting.

"Grace, can I tell you what I see when I look at you?"

She looked over at him, somewhat vulnerably.

"I see an amazing young woman who has so much potential for good, and an incredible burden on her shoulders, but despite it all, this young woman I see has the strength to handle it."

Grace had tears moistening her eyes.

"I see the little girl you used to be, and the woman I know you'll become. I am so proud of you. And I love you. Not because of what you do...not because of the things that you accomplish...but because you're my daughter. You stole my heart the day you crawled up to me, and asked me to help you read that story."

Grace threw her arms around her dad's neck. "I love you, Daddy." She whispered, hugging him tightly.

"I love you too, Grace," he murmured, holding her tightly. When she finally pulled away, he grinned. "And I think that Trevor kid is a keeper." He became mockingly gruff. "Of course...not as a date. You're not allowed to date until you're 45."

Grace giggled.

"There she is," Jack said with a smile as he looked at her face. "There's my little girl."

She threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek once more.

"So, your mom says you're reading my favorite Harry Potter book," Jack said, picking up the book as she pulled away.

"Yeah..." Grace grinned.

"Good." He said with a laugh. "Now...am I ever going to hear you call yourself a freak again?"

She shook her head. "I'm a young woman with a lot of potential and...special talents..."

He grinned. "You never forget that, and you'll do okay."

"With a dad like you to show me the way," she said with a timid smile. "How could I do any less than amazing?"

"You're the amazing one," Jack said with a modest smile. "Now, it's getting too quiet downstairs...let's go see what your mom and Jake are doing."

"Probably some Star Wars thing..." Grace murmured, rolling her eyes. "Like usual."

Jack laughed. "Thank you, Teal'c."


	33. Hypotheses

"Jack?"

The house was dark and silent, and though she knew it was a long shot, Sam turned to her husband. "Jack? Are you awake?"

"No," he murmured, sleepily from where he lay on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow.

"I can't sleep."

In a moment, he had rolled over to face his wife, his eyes still closed. "Whaddaya mean you can't sleep?" He slurred, sleepily.

"I keep thinking about the things that I'd have to overcome in order to make some sort of Anti-Anti-Prior device...not to mention I'm thinking of all the reasons this wouldn't work on the kids, and I'm worrying about those DNA tests that Cassandra ordered and if anyone outside the four of us has seen them, and if they have, whether or not they're trustworth..."

"Sam." Jack interrupted, blinking quickly after having fully awoken somewhere in the middle of her rant. "It's the middle of the night. Slow down. You're giving me a migraine."

Slowly, she inhaled and exhaled.

"Now..." Jack said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "What's going on?"

"I'm worried," she admitted. "And I don't sleep well when I'm worried."

"Is there something you could be doing to keep yourself from being worried?"

"I could go to the base and start working on a way to counteract the device."

"Would you come home when you're finished?"

"Of course!" She said, irrationally irritated at his question.

He raised a finger to quiet her, gently, before he continued. "Then, I think you should go."

"You do?" She asked, surprised.

He nodded. "If it will make you feel better and keep our kids safer, I can't imagine that I'd ever say no."

She kissed his lips tenderly. "I love you."

"I know, I know." He groused, goodnaturedly, as she slipped out of bed. "Go play with your doohickeys. I'll be here when you come home."

* * *

"Working late, Dr. Lee?" one of the scientists in the sublevels of Cheyenne Mountain greeted as they passed each other in the corridor.

He shrugged. "Par for the course around here."

"Don't I know it?" She sighed, sympathetically. "Lucky for me, I'm headed home."

"Have a good night, Dr. Powers."

"And you, Dr. Lee," she returned.

He hummed to himself as he walked over to the lab, and swiped his access card through the card reader.

"Hi, Bill."

He jumped at the sight of Samantha Carter at the lab computer. "Dr. Carter, what are you..."

"I need your help." She interrupted, soberly. "We need to find a way to artificially counteract the anti-Prior device. I mean...without a Prior who can learn to get around its effects."

"The Anti-Prior Device?" He asked, his brow furrowing. "I don't remember getting any orders to revisit that technology."

She tensed. "There are no orders."

"Why do you want to counteract the device?" He asked, suspiciously.

"Because I've been in more than a few situations where people with extraordinary capabilities and who have a mission to save the world, are inhibited by our lack of understanding."

"You're talking about the times when General O'Neill stuck his head in that Ancient repository of knowledge. And when Dr. Jackson became a Prior in an effort to utilize the knowledge that Merlin had entrusted to him."

"Yes."

"You, yourself, had reservations about letting them have full access to the base's resources." He reminded her.

"The first time General O'Neill was affected by the Ancient Repository of knowledge, he saved my team's life by sending us the the instructions that we needed to repair the DHD. The second time, he saved the entire planet from Anubis's attack."

"And when Dr. Jackson returned as a Prior..."

"I was confused." Sam admitted. "General O'Neill was confused. We were all worried about what he was asking us to do." She swallowed. "It was an enormous risk. But in the end, we found out that he was telling the truth."

"Because he stole a ship and captured General O'Neill."

She swallowed. "Yes. But he only did that out of desperation. If Woolsey hadn't tried to have him killed and if he wasn't facing a tight deadline, he wouldn't have done that."

"Dr. Carter, I'm sorry, but I can't author..."

"It's personal, Bill." She interrupted. "My son has certain...abilities, and I know that some people might want to inhibit his use of them. However, I want him to be safe if they're the wrong kind of people."

"And you think they'd have access to the Anti-Prior device."

"I think the world's changing faster than I'd like, and that with this President, it's only a matter of time before he decides to reveal the Stargate Program."

Bill's eyes widened as the wheels in his mind began turning. "Well, I suppose that since the Anti-Prior device is based on a frequency oscillating pattern, we could probably make some sort of pocket-sized device which would emit, say, an...electromagnetic pulse that would knock out the Anti-Prior device. It would have similar effects to a Prior overcoming the device's power over them, but instead of being ineffective, it would simply shut down."

"Good work, Bill." Sam said with a grateful smile. "Now, let's get to work on putting it together."

Bill studied his colleague for a moment. "What I've just described would be a way to keep the device from working. I know more than a few people on this base that would rather not have that kind of technology around."

Sam swallowed. "Bill, if my kids are in as much trouble as I think they might be, someone may try to use this device against them. I want to give them, and their rescuers, the tools they need to handle it."

Bill became thoughtful for a moment before he looked back up at her. "I'm going to brew some coffee. If the amount of time it took us to come up with the Anti-Prior device is any indication of how long it will take us to break it, we're in for a long night."

Sam's eyes moistened with tears, unexpectedly, at the scientist's sacrifice and support. "Thank you, Bill."

* * *

"Dr. O'Neill?"'

Cassandra looked up to find her assistant walking into her office. "Yes, Barb?"

"We just received the DNA results you had rushed." She said, handing Cassandra a manilla envelope.

"Thank you." Cassandra said, getting somewhat nervous as she prepared to open them.

"Don't forget, you have a patient at 9:15. That's ten minutes from now."

"I have an alarm set," Cassandra said with a smile.

"Well, I'm off to do more exciting filing." Barb said with a chuckle.

"Enjoy." Cassandra laughed as she opened the envelope.

With a trained eye, she skimmed over the results. Her eyes widened instantly, and she reached for her phone.

"O'Neill."

"Jack, I just got Grace's DNA results back from the lab. We need to talk."

* * *

"I'm beginning to feel like I should just run the other direction if you ever come in here with an idea," Bill groaned, tiredly.

Sam smiled, sympathetically. "Take a break, Bill."

"I think I will." He admitted with a yawn.

Sam watched him walk out of the lab before she returned her attention to the computer screen in front of her where her projections and simulations were staring her in the face. So far, they hadn't found anything.

The lab phone rang, and Sam looked back, as if to see Bill returning to answer the phone. When he didn't, she reached up. "Carter."

"Sam, it's me."

"Jack?" She asked, surprised at the worry in his voice. "What's going on?"

"Cassandra just called. She got Grace's test results."

"And?"

"She needs to talk to us."

Sam tensed as Bill returned, having heard the phone ring. "I'll be right there."

"I'll see you there, then."

"Are you okay?" Bill asked as she hung up the phone. "You look pale."

Sam swallowed. "My daughter's test results just came in. And her doctor wants to meet with Jack and me."

"Go." Bill said, soberly. "I'll keep working here."

Sam managed a grateful smile before she hurried out the door to the lab.

* * *

Sam was pacing around the reception area with one arm propped up on another which was folded across her chest. Without thinking about it, she'd begun lightly biting the edge of her thumbnail.

"Hey," Jack greeted as he approached her.

"Jack." She said with a thin smile. "What did Cassandra say when she called?"

"Just that she needed to talk to us about the test results."

Sam tensed as she brought her arm back down to meet the one folded across her chest.

"Perfect timing," Cassandra said as she approached them. "I just finished up with a patient." She motioned for them to follow her, and she led them into her office and closed the door.

"What is it?"

Cassandra inhaled. "She's not from Earth."

"We knew that was a possibility," Sam acknowledged.

"I know." Cassandra said, nodding. "That's not what had me so surprised."

"Okay..."

Cassandra offered the contents of the manilla folder to Sam. "On a hunch, I ran Grace's DNA against all of our humanoid DNA samples from across the Milky Way and Pegasus."

Sam's eyes widened as she looked at the report. Then, she looked up at Cassandra incredulously. "You're her closest match!"

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"DNA tests identify markers in two samples of DNA that are the same. A biologically linked parent and child would share a certain percentage of markers. Now, any two people from the same race would also share a certain amount of markers by default. I, being from another planet, share enough markers with the humans on Earth in order to be capable of reproducing, but in other respects, I'm quite different. For instance, the range of my hearing is considerably different than the average Earth-born human, I have antibodies for a retrovirus which has never been contracted by someone from Earth, and a host of other changes..." She swallowed. "Now, Grace and I share the same...Caucasian markers that you might find in any other person who looked like us. But we also share some of the same abnormalities. It's not enough of a match to be biological family, but we do share enough to be considered the same race."

"So..." Jack prompted.

"Based on these test results, I would have to believe that Grace is from Hanka."

Sam shook her head. "That's impossible."

"Not entirely." Cassandra said, shaking her head.

"What do you mean?"

"Before SG-3 came through the Gate, there was a famine. A handful of farmers who were unable to make a living on Hanka went through the Stargate."

Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What?"

"One of the families that went were our neighbors – they had three kids who were a bit older than I was. Another family that went had a couple of children about the same age. If those kids grew up and had a daughter..."

"Grace may never have seen Hanka." Sam finished.

Cassandra nodded. "Unfortunately, that's not the only thing I found out."

"What?" Jack asked, curiously.

"Her blood shows traces of the retrovirus I had when I was 15. Now, I've already pulled out my mother's files from that illness, and I have plans to work on getting my antibodies into Grace..."

"Like what we did for Ma'chello's little machines," Sam said, looking at her husband, who shuddered at the memory.

"Sort of." Cassandra said with a slight grimace. "What my mom walked you through was a way to extract the rejectable parts of blood so that you could all get your protein marker. This...would be a bit more complicated because the antibodies are the things which would make blood incompatible."

"So, we're looking at something more like a vaccine."

Cassandra sighed as she nodded.

"Do you two have the same blood type?" Sam asked, looking at Cassandra.

"I'm not entirely sure. That's the first thing I intend to check." Cassandra admitted. "That would make the whole thing much easier."

The O'Neills nodded.

"If it's true that she's somehow from Hanka," Cassandra said, slowly. "Her clairvoyance makes a bit more sense."

Sam hesitated. "I don't know...Nirrti seemed to have given up on the natural evolution of Hanka. I mean, if she hadn't, I can't see how she would have been willing to annihilate the entire planet."

Cassandra swallowed. "She didn't want you discovering what she was doing there," she said, quietly. "She already had her data from who knows how many years of research."

Jack sighed as he offered her a reluctant shrug. "You've got a point there. I mean, she did go and start more aggressive research on Alabran's planet."

Sam nodded.

"Anyway, I just thought you should know first. If you'd like, I can discuss this with Grace, but I thought..."

"It would be better coming from us." Jack said, soberly.

"Okay." She said, nodding.

"Thanks for letting us know." Sam said with a small smile.

"In a way, it lifts a burden from my shoulders." Cassandra admitted as she sat back in her chair.

"It means you're not alone."

She nodded. "Though how she got from wherever she was to here is still a complete mystery."

Sam and Jack nodded, slowly. "And why she was sent here in the first place," Sam added, somewhat ominously.

"You think she was sent here for a reason?" Cassandra asked, soberly.

"Well, according to Grace, my mother somehow brought her here." Sam said, her skepticism hidden behind her usual explanatory tone. "If that's true, then she was just brought here to be a part of our family."

"But if someone else is responsible for bringing her here..." Jack began.

"We could have a big problem on our hands." Sam finished, matter-of-factly.

Cassandra swallowed, unconsciously stroking her distended abdomen.

"Sam, this is Grace. This is our daughter."

"She doesn't have to intend to do anything," Sam reminded him.

Cassandra nodded. "I was sent through to blow up the Stargate. And I didn't know it."

"And if Grace has some sort of tie to Nirrti..."

"Nirrti was dead before Grace was even born."

"I know." Sam said from behind a clenched jaw as she tried to stave off an emotional reaction.

"And it's more likely that your mother had something to do with her coming to Earth than that Nirrti had some plan in motion for a child she'd never met to come and destroy Earth."

"I know that too."

"So..."

"So, I think it's prudent to be cautious. Cassandra's evidence that we've stopped these kinds of things in the past, and I think with careful observation, we can stop whatever might be planned for Grace."

"_Might_ is the key word there." Jack pointed out.

Sam sighed. "You're right. We don't know what's going to happen, and we can't spend our lives trying to protect people from something we don't know for sure is going to happen."

"I've been checking in Grace's scans to see if there's anything we've ever encountered before or anything particularly abnormal about them. So far, she's clean." Cassandra assured.

"Then, I suppose we'll have to take Grace's word on what she said about my mother bringing her here." Sam said, softly.

"Until something else tells us otherwise," Jack agreed.

"Is that all you needed to tell us?" Sam asked, looking at Cassandra.

She nodded. "I'll keep you posted on anything I learn about the retrovirus or anything else I find in my mother's notes."

Sam managed a grateful smile as she stood. "Well, I really should get back to the lab. Bill's been there all night, and he's doing me a personal favor working on this project."

Jack stood as well. "And I should get back to the kids. With the short notice, I just left Jacob with Grace with instructions that neither of them are to go outside, they're to keep Doc with them at all times, and call me if they hear something unusual or frightening."

"And I have patients." Cassandra said, heaving herself out of the chair.

Sam walked over, and hugged her daughter-in-law. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Will do." Cassandra said with a thin smile. "You guys too, okay?"

"We will." Sam said as she and Jack left the office.

"How's the anti-Prior device thing going?"

Sam managed an uncomfortable smile. "Can we not talk about that?"

"That well, huh?"

She bit her lip. "It will just be...a long process...and it's especially difficult since Bill is helping me as a favor, and it's not exactly an official project."

He kissed her gently. "You'll figure it out. Just like you always do."

"Love you." She said with a faint smile as she caressed his cheek, affectionately. "Take care of yourself and the kids, okay?"

"Will do. Don't wear yourself out."

"I won't." She assured.


	34. Matters of State

"We have to move the announcement up." A voice murmured on the telephone.

"What? But we can't just...can we?"

"You're the President of the United States!" The other voice snapped. "You can make the announcement when and where you want to."

"But..."

"Do you really want to finish that sentence?"

President Brandon Marks sighed, heavily, as he raked his fingers through his hair which had begun to thin with the stress of the last few months. "No."

"Call Cheyenne Mountain and get SG-1 on a plane to Washington. We'll take care of the rest."

The phone went dead and President Marks let the phone slip from his fingers. "What have I done?" He whispered, holding his head in his hands.

* * *

"How's it going, Bill?" Sam asked as she arrived at the lab again.

"Uh," the scientist said, clearly distracted by what he was trying to finish. "Well, so far, we're about..." He sighed. "Well, Thomas Edison did say that he didn't find a thousand ways to fail, but a thousand ways that didn't..."

He saw Sam's less than enthusiastic response.

"We found a few ways that just didn't work." He finished, limply.

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam said, shedding her jacket.

"How's your daughter?"

"She'll be fine." Sam said, efficiently, as she returned to her station at the computer. "Just some routine test results."

"It didn't seem routine."

She shrugged. "We were a little nervous, but we're not anymore." She said, succinctly. She studied the projections he'd been working before she shook her head. "This is all wrong."

"Gee, thanks." Bill said, sardonically.

"Every test, every simulation we've run has required too strong a pulse to be emitted by a pocket-sized transmitter." She bit the inside of her cheek in frustration as she studied the calculations. "I hate when I know something's wrong, but I can't seem to figure out what it is."

Just then, the phone on the wall rang. Bill reached for it. "Dr. Lee." He greeted.

Sam watched him as he grew sober, and looked over at her. "Yes, sir. She's right here. I'll let her know."

He hung up the phone, and looked at her. "General Mitchell wants to talk to anyone who's ever been a member of SG-1." He said, slowly. "They're meeting in the briefing room."

Sam swallowed, knowing almost instantly what the call was about.

"Thank you." She said, quietly as she reached for the jacket she'd just put down. "I have a feeling that I'm going to be called to Washington. Can you please keep working on this?"

"What's going on?" He asked, surprised.

"I think they're going to reveal the Stargate program." She said, simply.

After receiving assurances that Lee would continue their work, she slipped out of the lab and headed down the familiar corridors of the SGC to elevator which would take her to the same floor as the office she'd once inhabited and the briefing room which had almost become a second home to her.

"Sam!"

She whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice. "Daniel," she greeted, warmly.

"I thought this was one of your days to teach at the university." He said, catching up to her.

She frowned. "I, uh, actually put in for an emergency leave of absence. Grace had a...situation...at school."

"The substitute teacher thing?" Daniel asked as they walked down the corridor together, just as they had when she'd still been on SG-1.

She nodded. "You heard about that?"

"You told Vala when she dropped Jacob off after Kindergarten."

"Right." Sam said, nodding, as she pressed the button for the elevator. "I forgot..."

"Long week, huh?" Daniel asked, looking over at her, sympathetically, as the elevator doors opened in front of them.

"And it's not going to get any better if this meeting is about what I think it's about." She said, soberly.

Daniel selected the floor that they wanted to go to, and then, turned to Sam as the elevator doors closed. "You think President Marks is announcing the existence of the Stargate Program."

She nodded.

He exhaled. "And he wants us there so that he will look good, naturally."

"Naturally," Sam agreed as the elevator car stopped, and let them off on their desired floor. She released a sigh. "The longer I'm in this nightmare the more it sounds like we're headed for exactly the kind of disaster that I experienced in that alternate reality."

Daniel sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She shrugged. "I've briefed two administrations on that experience. Whatever happens, my conscience is clear."

They arrived at the briefing room, not terribly surprised to see both Jack and Vala standing with Neill, Mitchell, Teal'c, Major Jennifer Hailey, and another man Sam didn't recognize.

"General Carter." Hailey greeted, formally.

"I'm retired, Hailey," Sam said with a chuckle. "Call me Sam."

"General Carter." The man beside her greeted, formally.

"General, this is Dr. Anton Smirnoff," Hailey introduced. "He's the scientific liaison to the SGC from Russia."

"Dr. Smirnoff," Sam greeted, nodding in his direction.

"Your work with wormhole physics, though rudimentary at best, was a good starting point for my own research," Smirnoff said, as if his superiority was a fact and not a mere speculation.

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Jen managed a sympathetic smile as she turned the retired General back to the rest of the group. "He's always like this." She apologized. "In his eyes, I'm not more a scientist than Daniel Jackson over there."

"I see." She said, nodding. "So, we have a Russian Rodney McKay."

Jen laughed. "I suppose that's the best way to put it."

"Rodney McKay, I know how to handle." Sam said, easily, as she walked up to her husband.

"Three guesses why we're all here, and the first two don't count," he said, soberly.

"Marks is tired of Hamilton's blackmail?"

"Bingo."

She sighed. "I really don't like that man."

"Neither do I." Jack said, mirroring his wife's expression.

"Where are the kids?"

"With Charlie."

She exhaled. "And we're probably going to be shipped from here to Peterson without a chance to say good-bye or to explain anything to them."

"Sam, they know about the Stargate program. They're not going to be surprised by the news."

"Still, I'd rather be with them when it's all revealed." She said with a sigh.

Cam walked into the briefing room, his face sober. "I'm not going to waste any time with introductions." He said as the group gathered around the familiar table in the center of the room and each took a seat. "I would imagine that you've either met each other or you'll get a chance on our way to Washington."

"They're revealing the Stargate Program, then?" Vala said, looking over at him.

He exhaled, heavily. "They're revealing the Stargate Program." He said, nodding.

Sam looked down to find her husband reaching for her hand underneath the table, and though she found a modicum of comfort in the gesture, she couldn't help but remember the awful experience she'd lived so many years earlier when she'd been accidentally transported to an alternate reality and unwittingly become a puppet for the alternate president.

"When do we report to Peterson?" Sam asked, trying to sound somewhat emotionless.

"As soon as you can retrieve your dress uniforms or something suitable to wear at the press conference." He said, soberly. "Wheels up in two hours. Dismissed."

Sam stood at the same time as her husband, and he turned to her. "Let's go."

She nodded, quickly following him.

* * *

"Who's watching Doc?"

"Charlie and Cassandra offered to take him while they watch the kids." Jack returned to his wife's question.

"Did the kids pack suitcases?" Sam called from the bathroom as she packed a few simple toiletries.

Jack nodded. "I had a feeling when Mitchell called that this was going to be about the announcement."

"I wish we had someone else to leave the kids with." Sam said as she returned into the master bedroom.

"I wish we didn't have to leave the kids." Jack said, soberly. "But we do." He looked over at his wife. "They'll be fine. Everyone's going to be fine."

She managed a thin smile. "I know. But you know how I worry..."

"Yes," he teased with a smile. "I do."

She sighed, heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Something wrong?"

"Besides the fact that I can imagine every scenario where this plays out badly?" She asked, looking over at him with a weary eye.

She finished packing her overnight bag as her husband studied her.

"Don't just stare at me." She sighed.

"I wish I could hold you and tell you that everything's going to be okay, but I can't." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Maybe not," she said, looking over, gratefully. "But I love you for trying."

He smiled as he walked over and hugged her tightly. "Everything's going to be okay." He murmured, softly. "Now...are we ready to go?"

She nodded, slowly. "I think so."

"All right." He said, offering her his cell. "Why don't you call the kids while I get all this put into the car and get us on our way to Peterson?"

She managed a grateful smile as she accepted it.

* * *

Grace's cell phone, sitting on the edge of the dining room table, began to vibrate, causing Doc to bark incessantly.

"Grace!" Jacob called from the main floor up the stairs to where Grace was getting settled in the guest room. "Your phone's ringing!"

"I'm coming!" Grace called as she hurried down the stairs and easily retrieved the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, angel," Sam greeted.

"Hi, Mom. What's going on?"

"Well, angel, it looks like they need us in Washington for a press conference."

Even at thirteen, Grace could recognize the sigh of resignation which accompanied her mother's words. "They're going to reveal the Stargate program?"

"Yes."

"I guess that explains why we're not at Daniel and Vala's." She said, simply.

"Daniel and Vala are coming with us. And so is everyone else."

"Well, be safe."

"I was just about to say the same thing to you," her mother said, affectionately. "Put Jacob on the phone?"

"Jacob, it's for you!" Grace called, holding the phone out to the little boy.

He didn't look up from where he was laying on his stomach in the den with a book in front of him and one hand practically woven into Doc's fur, only reached out his unoccupied hand and allowed the phone to float through the air to him. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, my little Jedi." She said with a smile. "How's it going at Charlie and Cassandra's?"

"Well, Charlie's the only one here 'sides me and Grace." He said, casually. "But Doc's here and everything. It's great."

"I'm glad. Now, I want you to be good for Charlie. And Cassandra. And Grace, if they leave her in charge."

"I will," he said with a sigh of exasperation.

"I love you, little man."

"I'm not little," he grumbled.

"Right." She said, apologetically. "I love you, big, strong, handsome man. Now, Daddy and I are going to be on airplane for a few hours. You're not going to be able to reach us, okay?"

"Okay."

"Let me guess," she said with a soft smile. "You're reading."

"Yeah."

"All right, send me back to your sister."

"Love you, Mom." He said before sending the phone whizzing toward his sister.

It hit the center of her back and then fell to the floor. "Jacob!" Grace cried, angrily.

"Mom said she wanted to talk to you." Jacob said, innocently, before he returned to his book.

Grace rolled her eyes before she bent and retrieved the phone. "What was that all about?" Sam asked instantly.

"Jacob sent the phone, but didn't warn me." Grace said, an undercurrent of bitterness in her tone.

"Grace, be nice to your brother, please." Sam said, wearily. "Your dad and I aren't going to be there to mediate, and the last thing I want is for Charlie and Cassandra to be under any extra stress."

Just then, Charlie appeared, having heard the commotion from a few moments earlier. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jacob and Grace quipped in unison.

"Is that Charlie?" Sam asked, hearing the other voice in the room.

"Yes." Grace said with a sigh. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Actually, yes."

Grace thrust the phone into her temporary guardian's face. "My mom wants to talk to you."

Initially surprised by the gesture, Charlie instinctively stepped backwards. Then, he reached out and accepted the phone as Grace went back upstairs. "Sam?"

"Hi, Charlie. Thanks so much for doing this for us."

"Well," he began with an undercurrent of teasing in his tone. "We were thinking of refusing when Dad reminded us that we may have a few years of free babysitting ahead of us if we didn't, so...it's really just an investment."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Sam chuckled, receiving a look of approval from her husband. "I see..." She laughed, more openly. Then, she sobered. "Charlie, we may be unavailable for a few hours while we fly and while we're in the actual press conference, but other than that, I want you to call if there's the slightest problem. We'll try to get home as fast as we can."

"I appreciate that, Sam." He said, earnestly. "I really do. But I think this is one of those times like when I was a kid, and Dad would have to go on a mission. Right now, what's best for you and all of us is to have you at that press conference."

Sam sighed in resignation. "I wish you were wrong."

"We'll be okay." Charlie assured.

"I'm sure you will be. Now, Jacob's going to be in bed," she began.

"At seven-thirty. And Grace needs to be in bed by nine. Jacob needs a bath before he goes to bed so that he'll calm down enough to actually sleep. Grace, however, likes to shower in the morning...something about her hair..."

Sam chuckled in relief. "Jack went through this all with you already."

"And I've been known to be around for bedtime and such," Charlie said with a smile. "They're fine. Cassandra's at the hospital right now,on duty, but once she gets home, she'll be home for at least the evening, and hopefully a day or two. She's been working long hours at the hospital, and I have a feeling that the hospital administrator, with a nudge from her doctor, is going to put his foot down, and send her home."

"Well, she certainly is dedicated," Sam said with a smile. "But, honestly, she needs the rest, and she probably should stay out of the public eye for a while. Just in case some people start to put two and two together."

"Oh, believe me, that's one of the reasons I called her doctor. I said she was working herself too hard, but even she has expressed some concern about what this particular announcement might have in store for her."

"We'll try to minimize the fallout as much as we can," Sam said, managing a brave smile.

"You do what you have to do," Charlie said, simply. "We'll watch the kids and deal with whatever comes our way on this end."

"Thank you." Sam said, gratefully. "Now, did Jack tell you that if something happens, and you either can't or don't want to watch the kids anymore, I've got my brother in Denver on standby?"

"Um, no. Dad didn't say that."

"Well, I'll give you his number. Grace should have his number in her phone, but like I said, if anything changes, and you can't reach us, call Mark."

"Yes, ma'am." He said with the sharpness of a new cadet.

"Do you have a pen and paper?" Sam asked with a small chuckle in her voice.


	35. Emergency

"There's commotion in Washington, D.C. tonight as the press prepares for the suddenly called Presidential Press Release scheduled for tonight."

Cassandra looked up in surprise from where she was sitting in the doctor's lounge with a yogurt cup in one hand and her feet propped up on a chair as one of the residents turned on the television.

"Is this okay, Dr. O'Neill?" The resident asked, looking over at her, curiously.

She waved his concern away as she moved her legs off the chair and sat forward in anxious consideration of what the reporters were discussing.

"Rumor is that retired Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill, who was a candidate for the Presidential cabinet when President Marks was elected approximately six years ago, is in Washington, D.C. to advise the White House on an issue of military significance."

Instantly, she remembered the call she'd received from Charlie when he'd told her that his younger siblings, separated by at least two decades in age from the oldest O'Neill child, would be staying with them while Sam and Jack went to Washington.

"Daniel, Vala, Mitchell, Neill, and Teal'c were also called to D.C., weren't they?" She had interrupted, soberly. "That's not just coincidence."

He had inhaled slowly and exhaled just as slowly. "I know."

She swallowed. "Charlie, this could be get pretty awful for me."

"For you?"

"Well, I'm not exactly from around here, Charlie…" She said, nervously.

"So? I spent my adolescence and most of my adult life on another planet too. They don't have to find that stuff out."

"Adoption records that say I'm from Toronto?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think they're going to be able to ignore that."

He sighed as they both wished that he was close enough to hold her close. "We'll get through it, okay?"

Now, she was watching it unfold before her eyes.

There was video footage of the President greeting the highly decorated group of military and civilian leaders on the front steps to the White House as they emerged, dressed in their dress uniforms and suits, from the black SUVs which had brought them from Andrews to the White House.

"It's unclear why the President has called this group of retired Air Force generals, an Air Force Major, an Air Force Captain, and four civilians, two of whom have quite mysterious pasts, to the White House immediately before this important press conference..."

A sudden, sharp pain seared through her head accompanied with the faintest humming noise, and she fell toward the table, sliding out of her chair and onto her knees. It felt like her head was going to explode with the pressure that had built up so suddenly. Even the headache that she'd had during her illness at fifteen had nothing on this one.

"Dr. O'Neill?" The resident cried, hurrying to her side at the sound of the crash.

She tried to breathe, but her head swam in dizziness as she attempted any kind of low breath. Cassandra opened her mouth to alert someone, but the cry died in her throat as the pain seared through her head again, causing her to double over as far as she could, as she pressed her palms against her forehead.

"I NEED A GURNEY STAT!" The resident called to the flurry of activity outside the doctor's lounge.

Cassandra didn't respond to his actions, the pressure in her head making it difficult to hear or to see.

"Dr. O'Neill, I need you to tell me what's wrong." The resident said, forcing her to look up at him as he examined her eyes.

"H-head..." She stuttered. "H-hurts..."

Blood dripped from her nose and onto her white lab coat just above where her name was embroidered.

"Help me," she slurred before she finally fell against him, unconscious.

* * *

"Does anyone else feel like we're on display?" Sam asked, clearly uncomfortable in her old dress uniform, as she paced in the White House conference room that she was sharing with the other members of SG-1, past and present. It felt strange to have her hair braided and tucked under to keep her hair close to her head – she'd gone so long without restraining it except for the occasional ponytail. It felt so strange and yet so familiar to wear her blues which felt heavier than her average suit because of the medals she wore on her jacket.

"What are they supposed to do?" Mitchell asked from where he sat with his feet crossed on the table and his right thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just let us get mobbed by reporters when the news finally breaks?"

"Not again," Jack groaned as he let his head fall against the wall that he was standing nearby.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Vala asked, looking at the rest of the group, curiously.

They all turned to look at her as if she was crazy.

"On October 30, 1938," Daniel began with a small sigh, "There was a radio broadcast that announced the arrival of Martians."

Vala's eyes widened in surprise. "You never told me about that."

"It was a fictional story." Jack said before Daniel had a chance to answer her. "It was an adaptation of the novel _War of the Worlds _by H.G. Wells, and it was being broadcast as if it was actually happening. It was a new technique of storytelling, I suppose, but it backfired. Supposedly, it caused a lot of panic. People were already uneasy about their futures with the impending U.S. participation in World War II, and this was so revolutionary to the entertainment industry…"

"People ran through the streets armed," Daniel added. "There's a story of people who shot at a man's water tower because they thought it was a Martian tripod."

"My Uncle Walt, once told me about that night," Mitchell said, thoughtfully. "He and his family only caught part of the broadcast before my grandma forced them all into the bomb shelter they had in the backyard."

"How long were they there?" Sam asked, curiously.

"Only overnight, as far as I can remember. Maybe it was two days. Anyway, it was because granddad didn't see the point in just hiding unless there were sightings closer to town. When he got out, he read a few articles in the paper which said it was just fiction, and they went back to their lives."

"Kind of like what happened with Anubis's attack in Antarctica," Sam said, quietly.

"Hey, we didn't say it was fiction," Jack said, his head snapping up.

"We didn't have to," she returned instantly. "Instead, we told them that they were mistaken. Or, if they confronted us directly, we insinuated that they were crazy. How many cover stories are we going to strip away here? At least a dozen. Gas explosions, meteor showers, gas leaks causing widespread hallucinations, unscheduled missile testing…when we're finished today, there will be very few citizens of this and other countries who have any faith in our leaders and what they have to say from here on out."

Teal'c, with his hands clasped behind his back, merely nodded in his agreement to her assessment.

"What would you do?" Jack's clone, Captain John Neill, asked, looking up at her, curiously. "Keep it a secret forever?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I'll admit that it's getting harder and harder to cover everything up, but we're just…we're not ready for this."

"It's been eighty years since the broadcast, Samantha," Vala said, looking at her friend. "I'm sure Earth has learned a few things in that amount of time."

Sam swallowed. "I know you think I'm nuts." She said, looking around. "But none of you were there when I went to that alternate reality. In the attempt to protect this country from the threat of anarchy, President Landry declared martial law. And then he proceeded to use the technology that the SGC had found through the Stargate program to bully anyone who didn't toe the line. Goa'uld pain sticks for protestors, for instance," she said, looking at each member of the group who had experienced the pain of the torture device she'd just mentioned.

"How about ordering a fleet of F-302's to squelch the threat of Irish terrorism based only on the Prime Minister's word?" She continued. "There was no freedom of speech, no free enterprise, no civil liberties. And he was about to turn his back on the rest of the galaxy. Is that what we've been fighting for all these years? Is that why we made the sacrifices that we made?"

"Sam," Jack murmured, gently patting her shoulders. "Calm down. We're all on the same side here."

She turned a look to her husband before she sat down with a sigh. "I just...that's not what I had in mind when I started working with the Stargate Program."

"And hopefully," Mitchell said, soberly, cutting Dr. Smirnoff off as he opened his mouth to make some sort of retort. "It won't happen that way."

* * *

The ring of Charlie's cell phone interrupted him as he tried to finish getting dinner ready. Cassandra's name was on the caller ID, and he couldn't help but smile to himself ruefully. "Looks like Cassandra's going to be late." He said, looking over at Jacob. "Go get your sister. It's almost time to eat."

Jacob nodded as Charlie brought the phone to his ear. "Hi, hon. Let me guess, you're going to be late."

"Mr. O'Neill, this isn't your wife." A male voice responded.

"What's wrong?" He asked, instantly. A thousand different scenarios played out in his mind. Premature labor, car accident...

"Dr. O'Neill has been admitted to the hospital. According to the resident who was with her at the time, she clutched her head suddenly, and fell to her knees. By the time he got to her, her speech was slurring and there was blood dripping from her nose."

"W-what?" He breathed in absolute shock.

"The doctors are still trying to determine exactly what happened, but it would probably be wise for you to get down here as soon as you possibly can."

"Of course." He said, instantly. "I'm leaving now."

He hung up the phone. "Grace!" Charlie called as he reached for his coat. "Jacob! We've got to leave now! Cassandra's in trouble!"

"What's wrong?" Jacob asked, his eyes wide with concern as his sister appeared behind him.

"They don't know yet." He said, simply. "But it sounds like she's really sick."

"Dad said if anything happened to Cassandra – you know, if the babies came early – we were supposed to call Uncle Mark." Grace said, soberly. "I can watch Jacob while we wait."

Charlie looked torn before he nodded. "I've got Mark's number. I'll call him. If he answers and says he can come, I'll leave. If not, you two are coming with me."

Grace and Jacob nodded slowly as he reached for the phone and searched the kitchen counters for the sheet of paper on which he'd written Mark's phone number.

Please, God, he prayed in his heart. Don't let this end like Guin...

* * *

Sam continued to pace around the room, eying her cell phone every few moments.

"Call them, Sam." Jack said, soberly. "If you're going to do that all evening, just call them."

She sighed. "They're probably just fine, but..." She reached for the phone. "I'll call them just in case."

She quickly dialed her daughter's cell phone, waiting nervously for a few moments.

"Hi, Mom."

"Grace." Sam said, obviously relieved to hear her daughter's voice. "How are you and Jacob settling in?"

"Uh...we're fine."

"Good. That's good to hear."

"Mom," Grace said, clearly leading up to something.

"Yes?"

"Uh, Cassie's not okay."

"What happened?" Sam asked, her heart racing.

"She got sick at work. Charlie went to find out what's going on. I'm watching Jacob and Doc here at their house until Uncle Mark comes."

Sam was almost instantly light-headed as she heard what was going on with her daughter-in-law. "Good work. Now, lock all the doors. Don't answer the phone or the door unless you know who it is, okay?"

"I know, I know."

"Let me know if you hear anything about Cassandra." Sam said, earnestly.

"I will."

"I love you, angel."

"Love you too, Mom."

Just then, Jack's cell went off, and he looked at his wife in astonishment when he saw the name on the caller ID.

"Grace, it looks like your dad's getting a call from Charlie. We'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Mom."

"Bye, angel."

Sam turned back to her husband who had just opened his phone. "Charlie? Hey, slow down...start at the beginning."

Jack visibly paled as he silently listened to his son on the phone. "Don't worry about the kids. They'll be fine. You keep an eye on your wife, okay? We're about to go into the press conference, but after that, we're on the first flight home."

He closed the phone as Sam looked at her husband. "What'd you hear about Cassandra?"

"Apparently, she's in the hospital because of a severe headache that started a bloody nose."

Sam's eyes widened as she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

"The doctors aren't sure if it was a stroke, an aneurysm, a sinus infection...at this point in the testing, it could be any of those things..."

Sam swallowed down tears. "I don't want to be here, Jack."

"I know." He said, softly. "But she'll be okay. They'll all be okay."

She managed a thin, smile as she tried to look more convinced than she really was.

* * *

Charlie sat in the waiting room, his thoughts strangely still as he waited for news about his wife's condition. What did the cosmic powers of the universe have against his happiness? He asked himself silently.

First, he'd been abducted by a couple of meddling Asgard scientists from his parents here on Earth. Then, he'd been taken to a new planet after his clone had accidentally shot himself with his father's gun.

After finally acclimating to the family which had adopted him as their son, his parents, an aged, childless couple, had succumbed to a fever which had raged through the province, leaving him an orphan.

Next, it had been his daughter – his and Guinevere's – who'd been stillborn, her features perfectly and delicately formed but who'd never taken a single breath.

Then, it was Guin, a native of his new homeworld, who died from complications of delivery.

Now, nearly seven years after their deaths, it was Cassandra, and their unborn twins.

Did the universe have something against Charlie O'Neill having the family that the Asgard had stolen from him?

His cell phone vibrated, and he reached for it, automatically. "Hello." He murmured, his tone listless and tired.

"Hey, uh, Charlie?"

"Mark?" He asked, surprised.

"Was I supposed to come to your house or Sam and Jack's?"

He sat up instantly. "My house. Why?"

"The lights are on, but the doors are locked, and the kids aren't answering. I called Grace's cell phone about five times, but I keep getting her voice mail. Now, short of breaking open a window to get in..."

"There's a spare key under the mat at the back door."

"All right," Mark said as the wind rustled in the phone. "I'm headed there."

He waited for a few moments before Charlie could hear the door open. "Okay, that's weird...the back door was already unlocked. Grace!" He called, pulling the phone from his ear so that he didn't blast Charlie's eardrum with his call. "Grace! Jacob!"

Charlie's heart pounded in his ears as he realized the only sounds he was hearing were Mark's calls and the intermittent sounds of a television in the background.

"It's like they just disappeared," Mark said, almost in shock. "There's a half-eaten sandwich on the table, the TV's on, and Grace's cell phone is on the floor, vibrating. Probably to tell her about my last half-dozen calls. I'm calling..."

"What?" Charlie asked instantly, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as Mark's voice faded out.

"Th-the...the dog." Mark said, his voice trembling. "It's dead."

"I'm calling the police." Charlie said, instantly.

* * *

"I'm sure you're all curious about why I've called this rather sudden press conference." President Marks addressed the press with a smile, flanked by all of the members of SG-1, past and present. "And you're probably equally curious about who these people standing behind me are."

Sam looked forward at the sea of reporters in front of her, though she desperately wanted to turn a worried look to her husband, standing beside her.

"Until now, the people behind me have operated under the radar without recognition, but today all that is going to change. Until now, the project that these people behind me, General Jack O'Neill, General Samantha Carter, Colonel Cameron Mitchell, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Vala Mal Doran, Captain John Neill, Dr. Anton Smirnoff, Major Jennifer Hailey and Teal'c, have been involved in has been classified Top-Secret by the United States Air Force. This project, and indeed, these people who stand behind me, have been directly and indirectly responsible for many of the technological advances in the last two decades. The project I'm speaking of is located in Cheyenne Mount..."

A shot rang out, and the sound caused one of the reporters to yell "Gun!" as they all ducked for cover.

The press conference came to a screeching halt as the secret service agents grabbed the President and pushed him into their midst as a flood of security personnel rushed into every entrance of the small, overcrowded room.

At the sound of the gunshot, Jack instinctively turned to his wife, pushing her to the ground as he tried to evade the bullet. But even as he tried to push his wife out of the way, he heard the bullet whiz past his ear before hearing the all-too-familiar sound of a bullet piercing flesh. As he landed on top of his wife, he looked down to see her face twisted in agony and a rapidly spreading stain beginning at a single, clean hole in her dress blues.

"Sam!"

She managed an almost sick smile as he, in a moment of shock, hovered his fingers over her torn flesh. "Well," she began, attempting a lighthearted tone. "We didn't see that coming."

He snapped back into soldier mode, stripping off his own jacket before crumpling it up and pressing it against her shoulder in an effort to stem the bleeding. "You're going to be okay," he murmured, his training kicking in. "We're going to get you out of here."

"Someone just shot a gun in the same room as the President of the United States," Sam murmured from the brink between consciousness and unconsciousness. She swallowed down a cry of pain. "I don't think any of us are going anywhere anytime soon."

"Samantha!"

Vala and Daniel crawled over to her, all of SG-1 ignoring the President and the Secret Service only a few feet away. "Sam, you've been shot!" Daniel cried, noticing the wound.

"Guess someone wasn't a fan of my work," she said, forcing a grim smile to her quickly paling face. She grimaced before releasing a low chuckle in an effort to remain lighthearted. "I'd forgotten how much this hurts."

Jack managed an appreciative, but distinctly worried smile. Then, he turned to Daniel. "Did you see a gun?"

The archaeologist shook his head.

"It was the front row." Jack said, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. "It had to have come from the front row. The bullet hit her too soon after the shot rang out for it to have come from anywhere else. But I didn't see a gun either. Did you see anyone suspicious?"

"Jack, I saw the same things you saw, and if the Secret Service didn't see the gun, I don't know how any of us could have..."

"He's got a point," Sam said before swallowing down a groan.

"Ma'am, are you hurt?" One of the security officers asked, approaching the group.

Sam looked at him in disbelief, biting back a sarcastic comment.

"She's been shot," Jack said, looking over. "In the shoulder. We didn't see who did it."

"She wasn't close enough to the President for the shooter to have made a mistake," Daniel said, looking up. "Can't you see? She was the target!"

"Guys," Sam murmured, her words slurring as she began to slip into a state of unconsciousness.

"We have a medical team on the way," the officer assured as Jack opened his mouth.

"How did you know?" Sam asked, looking at her husband.

"Know what?"

"You pushed me out of the way." She murmured, struggling to stay conscious.

"I had a feeling," he said, softly. "It would be easy to change the focus of the investigation if they tried to hurt you when the President..."

"That's my Jack," she whispered as she began to shake with the onset of shock.

Teal'c, Mitchell, and Neill shrugged off their jackets before they placed the items on her to keep her warm.

"How did anyone get a gun past security?" Jack asked, looking over at his colleagues.

"H-how did Nirrti...get a weapon...past the Asgard?" Sam managed, turning gray as the moments passed.

"Her invisibility device." Daniel said, instantly. "It's also how she attacked Teal'c and Cronus, and how she followed us through the 'Gate to find out about Cassandra's condition."

"Didn't you take that after she died?" Vala asked, looking at the rest of the team.

Neill nodded. "We managed to get the people she'd been experimenting on to let us take that through the Gate, even if we couldn't study the device she'd used to change them."

"It's at Area 51." Mitchell added.

Sam nodded, slowly. "We were studying it when I was the head of R&D."

"Wouldn't be the first time something disappeared from Area 51 and was used in an assassination attempt." Neill said, soberly.

"Yeah..." Jack said, sarcastically. "That was fun too."

Sam coughed and grimaced as she tasted the blood which had been expelled into her mouth. She'd probably punctured a lung and only had a little while before she had to worry about her lung collapsing.

"What's the status on that med team?" Jack asked, looking up at one of the secret service agents.

"They'll be here in a few minutes," one of the agents assured.

She managed a supportive smile as she looked up at her husband. She felt the vibration of her cell phone and grimaced. "My phone..."

Jack reached for the phone in her pocket, and looked at the screen. Mark Carter, it read.

"O'Neill." He greeted, instantly.

"Hey, Jack. Is Sam around?"

"She's, uh...busy..." Jack said, looking down at Sam who was only a few moments away from losing consciousness before he stood and walked a short distance away. "What is it?"

He bit his lip. "Uh...Jack...the kids..."

"What about the kids?" He demanded, urgently, as the medical team arrived to tend to his injured wife. The fact that she didn't react with more than a raised eyebrow at his exclamation indicated just how badly she'd been injured and how close she was to slipping into unconsciousness.

"Jack, the kids are missing."

It was as if the world had ended for Jack. "They're what?" He demanded, his voice raising in anger and worry.

"We've called the police. They're on their way. Is there any way you can get away?"

"Mark, Sam's been shot..." Jack admitted. "I'm not going anywhere."

"What? Is she okay?" He demanded.

"We've got a med team here." He said,

"Look, I'll keep an eye on things down here. You keep my sister alive, okay?"

"I'm...I'm going to make some phone calls. Get some of my old colleagues involved in the search..." He managed, numbly.

Just then, the paramedics pushed past the throng of restrained people and up to Sam, who was now unconscious. "Excuse us," one of them said, looking at Jack.

He nodded, running his fingers through his hair, worriedly.

"Who was that?" Daniel asked, looking at Jack.

"Mark." Jack said, numbly. "The kids are missing, and Cassandra's in the hospital, and..." He sighed. "Now this."

"Do you think someone planned this?" Vala asked, softly.

"I don't know how..." He said, shaking his head. "Cassandra had a...a stroke which left the kids vulnerable because we were out of..." He looked up at Daniel and Vala before he shook his head. "It's all a set-up. Though I'm not sure how..."

"What were Cassandra's symptoms?" Neill asked, soberly.

"I don't know...slurred speech, pressure in her head...you'd have to talk to Charlie."

"I'm just thinking..." Neill said, biting his lip. "Do you remember what happened when Janet got that dog whistle for Cassie to use with the dog we got her?"

Jack looked over. They'd just discussed this earlier today. "Yeah, so?"

Vala shook her head. "I'm sorry, I must have missed something..."

Neill turned to her. "Jack and I got Cassie a dog when she first came to live with Janet. She fought the idea for a bit, but eventually, she got all of the stuff that she thought Cassie would need to take care of a dog."

"Including a dog whistle." Jack finished.

"One of those whistles that is too high for a human to hear, but enough that a dog can hear?" She asked, verifying her information.

Neill nodded. "Exactly. Well...Janet was trying to show Cassie how to use it while we were all at the park one day, and she fell down on the ground in agony."

"Naturally, Janet stopped blowing into the whistle, and Cassandra returned to normal almost instantly."

"So..." Vala prompted.

"It's just a theory, but couldn't someone fake a stroke just by playing something of that frequency long enough and loud enough?"

"Something that wouldn't affect the average human being." Jack said, nodding.

"Like that plant thing we saw years ago. And, oy...the headaches..."

Jack grimaced at the memory. "Right."

"I think this just went from coincidence to someone's well-executed plan," Mitchell said, soberly.

"General O'Neill?"

Jack turned as the paramedics approached, Sam lying on a stretcher behind them with an oxygen mask over her face. "Yes?"

"We're headed to the hospital. The security team assured us that you can travel with us as long as they can find you at the hospital in case they need to ask you any questions."

"Really?" Jack asked, shooting a look over at the secret service who were still in the room, restraining the media.

"President Marks ordered us to stand down when it came to you and your family," the head of security said, reluctantly. "He said you'd never have hired someone to kill your own wife, and if you'd hired someone to kill him, your shooter wouldn't have hit your wife instead."

Jack managed a sigh of relief. "Tell the President thank you," he said, gratefully.

"You go somewhere other than the hospital, and I don't care who was actually shot." The man said with hard eyes. "You leave, and I'll make sure you're a wanted fugitive – branded a traitor to your country."

Jack's eyes grew equally hard. "My wife was just shot, my kids have been abducted, and my very pregnant, doctor daughter-in-law apparently suffered a stroke. You may think I'm somehow connected to all this, but there's something else going on here. The President wasn't the target, and he knows it. My wife was. And our kids were. Now, find the damn shooter, or you'll wish you'd never threatened me."

"General, sir," one of the paramedics called. "We need to go now."

Jack turned and nodded in their direction. "Thank you." He turned back to the security officer. "Do we understand each other?"

"I think we do." He said, evenly.

Jack turned to find one of the paramedics ready to escort him to the chopper or ambulance or whatever the White House had on standby in case of this kind of emergency. He pressed his hand to his forehead. Cassandra in a hospital, yet undiagnosed. Grace and Jacob missing and Doc dead. Sam lying on a gurney looking even worse than she had when she'd returned home from getting shot by an Ori soldier. It was all he could do to keep walking forward. But he had to. He was almost the only untouched member of his family left.


	36. Grief

Doc's sudden, unexplained bark during dinner was the only indication of the two intruders. She hadn't even heard the shot that they'd sent through his forehead to silence him. They probably had used a silencer, like in the movies.

Her lip quivered at the thought of her dog, who'd been the first casualty – who knew how many more there would be before they were released from this nightmare. She couldn't let Jacob know that she was thinking of the worst possible scenario – where the siblings essentially gave their lives for scientific advancement. No, as far as Jacob was concerned, their parents, though in DC at the time of their abduction, would save the day. Just like in all the stories he'd grown to adore.

"Grace?"

The strangely timid sound of her brother's voice brought Grace out of her thoughts.

"It's okay, Jacob," she whispered, softly, wishing that they weren't so closely confined so that she could put an arm around his shoulders and comfort him.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know." She admitted.

Their abductors, clad from head to toe in black with ski masks over their faces, had shoved pillowcases over their heads and twisted their arms behind their backs so that they could bind their hands with plastic ties which, as Grace had quickly discovered, were virtually unbreakable. All she'd managed to do in trying to break apart the plastic restraints was to injure her wrists with the constant struggle.

Then, through the pillowcase, she'd seen a bright light, unlike anything she'd ever seen before. It was quickly followed by the sensation of having a thousand pins pricking every pore of her body. But it only lasted a few seconds before she was relieved of the strange sensation and then shoved into a container of some kind.

Jacob had been shoved into the same container, a narrow, but tall space – like a coffin – which was giving Grace terrible thoughts about being buried alive. And then, it had been sealed, the darkness closing in on them slowly but surely, as if the container was sealed by something that was less like a lid and more like a mechanized succession of interlocking units.

"Grace?"

"Hm?"

"I'm scared."

"It's okay, Jacob." She said, softly. "Mom and Dad will find us."

"Are you sure?" He asked with the slightest modicum of hope shining in his voice.

"You bet." She said, more confidently than she felt. "They've saved the world a lot of times. Don't you think they could save us?"

"You're right." He said, brightening a little. "And Teal'c. He could help them."

"And no one would dare mess with Teal'c." Grace said, managing a smile as she realized that Jacob was feeling less afraid.

"Yeah, he'd kick their butts!" Jacob said, enthusiastically, as he rambled on and on about how the battle would unfold.

Grace sighed silently to herself. Maybe so, but there wasn't going to be the slightest clue to where their abductors had taken them. It would take a miracle to get them home again.

* * *

"Mr. O'Neill?" A nurse asked, approaching Charlie in the corridor of the Academy hospital.

He stood, instantly. "Yes?"

"Your wife's awake."

His eyes widened. "Awake?"

She nodded. "It's a very good sign. Since we haven't seen any residual slurring or paralysis, the chances are fairly good that she didn't have a stroke."

He exhaled in relief.

"As for the baby..."

He tensed as he waited for the news.

"Your wife's OB/GYN has checked in on her, and said that the baby's heart beat seems to be normal."

Another wave of relief coursed over him. "Can I see her?"

The nurse nodded. "She's been asking for you."

He couldn't help but smile as he hurried toward her hospital room. His heart began to beat more quickly as he approached the door, and with great caution to make his entrance as quiet as possible, entered.

It was a small room, but since it was in the maternity wing (Cassandra had told him that all pregnant patients, regardless of their complaints, were immediately shuffled to the maternity wing from the ER), it was decorated in faint greens and floral patterns in an effort to maintain a more "homey" atmosphere. Machines which might at some point be necessary were tucked in wooden cabinets while those which were needed remained in plain sight.

There, in the center of the room, was his wife with her eyes closed and one hand on her extended abdomen.

He inhaled, tears springing unbidden to his eyes as gratitude that she was still alive and resting peacefully flooded his being.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" Cassandra croaked as her eyes cracked open a tiny bit.

He smiled as he walked more sedately over to her bedside. "I wasn't sure I should bother you. You looked so peaceful sleeping over there."

"From what I hear, I've slept enough," she said with a goodnatured chuckle as she turned her head to look over at him.

"You had me so worried," he admitted as he reached for one of her hands and held it between his own. "A phone call that you might have had a stroke..."

Cassandra shook her head. "Wasn't a stroke."

"We know that now." He said, reaching a hand up to her cheek.

She smiled softly at the gesture. "Did you call Mark to stay with the kids?" She asked, closing her eyes for a moment as if the fluorescent lighting was hurting her eyes. "I know you well enough to know you didn't go home after you got the call."

Charlie swallowed. "I called Mark..." He said, nodding.

She could sense the turmoil behind his statement, and she turned to him with a searching look. "And?" She prodded.

"By the time Mark showed up," he said, his voice breaking with all of the worry from the last few hours. He swallowed, hard, willing himself to stay calm and positive. "They're gone, Cassandra."

"Gone?" She gasped. "Like..."

"Mark got there, Doc had been shot, and the kids were nowhere to be found."

"Sam and Jack have gone to look for them," she said, as if assuring herself that everything, though currently awry, would be well soon.

He looked down at the ground.

"The announcement didn't go well, did it?" She asked, studying his face.

He inhaled before he turned on the small television in her room.

"Reports coming from the White House indicate that yesterday's shooting was not actually an assassination attempt on the President's life, but rather a terrorist plot to assassinate retired Brigadier General Samantha Carter.

"Carter, a theoretical astrophysicist who worked on a top-secret Air Force project code named "Stargate", was killed yesterday at the press conference where President Brandon Marks attempted to disclose the nature of the Stargate Program..."

Charlie looked at Cassandra's face, now frozen in shock as the screen began to portray the footage which had been procured from one of the reporters who'd been on the scene.

"Turn it off," she whispered, still too stunned to speak, as she saw Jack dive to save his wife after the sound of the bullet being fired echoed in the reporters' microphones.

Instantly, he did as he'd been bidden. "I didn't know how to tell you."

"Sam's dead," she whispered, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "And Grace and Jacob are missing."

Charlie swallowed hard as he felt his eyes burn with the sensation of impending tears.

The silence in the room hung thick in the air as if the news of Samantha Carter's death had settled around them in a heavy fog.

"Who..." Cassandra managed.

"I don't know." He swallowed. "Dad...Dad hasn't even called...but I guess he didn't have to. It's all over the news."

"He could have another heart attack," Cassandra whispered as if she hadn't heard him. "With the stress of the kids and what's going on with the Stargate Program and S..."

Her voice broke before she could finish Sam's name.

Charlie swallowed. "Um...Mark was going to meet with the FBI so they can try to find the kids, but...if he's seen the news...I think Dad was going to call his contacts at the SGC so that they could help out, but..." He sighed. "I don't know how all of this is going to figure into finding those kids."

"They must be so scared," she whispered, softly, as tears came pouring down her cheeks more swiftly.

Charlie looked over at her, noting how red her eyes had become. Instantly, he sat beside her on the bed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Within a moment, she was shaking with the ferocity of her sobs as she buried her face into his chest in absolute despair. "It's like losing my mom all over again," she whispered, clinging to him as if her very life depended on it.


	37. Soldiering On

Vala looked at Daniel, her eyes red and swollen, not surprised to see that his face looked drawn and haggard.

"It's been quite a day," she managed, slowly, as she lifted the cup of coffee that Teal'c had dropped by to her lips. "Quite a day."

"You know, besides Teal'c and Jack, she was the only family I'd ever known until..." He looked over at her with a ghost of a smile settled over his face. "Until I met you."

"When I first met her...back when we were fighting the Ori..." Vala murmured, her voice low, as she cast her mind back through the years. "I was jealous of her."

"You were?" He asked, surprised. "Because you thought she and I..."

Vala shook her head. "She was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but there was something deeper about your relationship with her. All of you – Cameron, Teal'c – you all respected her. When she said what she did about having an extra backup singer, I..." She looked down at the ground, honesty and guilt working hand-in-hand to bring forth this admission. "I was determined right then and there to do whatever it took to prove to her, and to you, that I wasn't just some pretty face. That I had something to offer you."

His eyes lit up a little, though they were still overcome with sadness as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Sam was good at bringing out the best in people. Though she'd never have told you that." He sighed. "Honestly, I think the SGC lost her too early when she retired. I mean, I understand why she retired, but still..."

Vala nodded, leaning her cheek on her husband's shoulder as she looked down the corridor to where Jack was sitting, dressed only in his shirt, tie, and slacks with his arms resting on his thighs, his hat in his hands and his head hanging down, almost as if he was praying. "Has he done anything to locate the children?"

Daniel sighed. "He called Reynolds from the ambulance. Reynolds said they'd keep their ears to the ground. He called Barrett when she was first admitted, and raised a lotta hell for the NID, but..."

"You don't think they'll find them." She whispered, softly.

"This was..." Daniel began. "The perfect assault. Cassandra in a hospital, so Charlie's incapacitated. Let the President say just enough so that the secret practically reveals itself, and the SGC is overextended. Shoot Sam so..."

He didn't finish his sentence, only let his eyes wander over to where Jack was sitting. "I keep hoping that after a little bit of time, he'll snap back into soldier mode. That's better than this."

"Anything is better than this," Vala clarified, gently.

Suddenly, the object of their conversation stood, and put his hat back on. He walked down the corridor toward Daniel and Vala, the indignation in his eyes practically shooting fire at anyone who would even think of standing in his way.

"We're going to the SGC." He said as Daniel and Vala stood. His tone made it clear that no amount of discussion would change that fact.

"How?" Daniel asked, simply.

"The SGC may be surrounded by reporters, but I happen to have it on good authority that there's a ship in orbit. I'm sure that with a call to Hank Landry, he'll make the necessary arrangements."

"Jack," Vala began.

He turned an eye to her, but it wasn't the eye of a husband and father who had nearly lost everything he'd ever held dear. It was the eye of a soldier who was ready for a fight.

She exhaled. "Samantha would want you to find your children, and bring them home safely. That was her only real desire."

Jack's eyes softened for a moment before he nodded, gruffly. Even without the jacket which he'd tried to use to stem his wife's bleeding and apply pressure to her wound, he looked like a formidable general about to bring the world to its knees. "I just wanted to make sure you were warned...before we get beamed aboard the _George Hammond_."

Daniel nodded. "Did you get Teal'c?"

"He said something about getting me something to eat." The general waved the concern away as if it was nothing more than a nuisance. "I'm fine. I'd rather get straight to the SGC and see what we have to work with."

"You mean what Dr. Lee knows about Samantha's research." Vala said, studying him closely.

Jack didn't dignify her statement with a response. "If you want to say your goodbyes, you do it now." He said, seriously as he pulled out the first cell phone in his pocket, his wife's phone that had been covered in her blood when he'd answered it just after the paramedics had arrived.

To any observer, he'd had no reaction. But to Daniel and Vala, the look in his eyes told them everything they needed to know. He was hurting, but the circumstances dictated that he bury his pain so that he could be more efficient at finding the two things she'd held most dear to her in this life – her children.

He coughed before reaching into his other pocket and retrieving his own cell which he dialed. "Hank, I need a favor."

* * *

A loud, overly dramatic sigh from the entrance to the lab brought Bill Lee out of his work-induced haze. He'd learned a long time ago, on a planet where then-Colonel O'Neill had disappeared, that when Samantha Carter wanted something, she would work as long and as hard as she possibly could to get it. He'd also learned that nothing brought a fiercer loyalty out of the retired General than the feeling that her family had been threatened.

In an effort to learn from his past mistakes, such as that same time when he'd not been quite as kind or understanding about her feelings, he was working overtime to get her the personal peace of mind that this anti-anti-Prior device would be to her and her family.

Another loud sigh made Bill roll his eyes. "What is it, Felger?" He asked, more than a little annoyed. "I'm a little busy at the moment."

"She...she worked here." Felger said, walking into the lab. "I can still smell her perfume."

Felger had been overwhelmingly in love with the lead scientist longer than Lee could remember. "She left over twenty-four hours ago, Felger." He said, sounding clearly irritated by the man's intrusion. "Now, get back to your lab. I've got work to do."

For a moment, it looked like Felger might throw up, and Bill cringed at the thought of what that kind of mess would mean for his lab, which was filled with computers, alien technology...

A sudden sniffle caught Bill's attention, and he gaped at the other scientist in surprise. "Are you...crying?"

"I can't help myself," Felger admitted through echoing sobs of grief. "To think...that this might have been the last place she..."

"Oh, Jay!"

His emotional outburst had been cut short by the sugary sound of his assistant of the last ten years Chloe's voice.

She hurried over and wrapped her arms around her husband. "Come on, Jay, let's go get some tea." She turned to Bill, who was watching the whole drama unfold in horrified fascination. "I'm sorry. It's just...ever since he heard the news..."

"What news?" Bill asked, his brow furrowed.

"She's dead!" Felger wailed, throwing back his head before he retreated back to the comfort of Chloe's waiting arms.

She managed a sigh. "According to the news, General Carter was shot when the President began to go public with the Stargate Program's existence."

Felger released another dramatic wail, and Chloe paused to offer him some more comfort before she turned back to Lee. "Rumor has it that she..." She paused as Felger's sobs increased in intensity. "She didn't make it."

Lee just stood there, dumbfounded as Chloe led Felger away with promises of chamomile tea and a phone call to his mother.

Dead, he reeled. How could she be dead? Not long ago, she'd been standing in this very lab, passionately begging him to help her on this project.

He walked over to his computer and pulled up his internet browser. Brigadier General Samantha Carter, he typed in the search box.

CNN was the first link, and he clicked on it. Instantly, video of the assassination appeared on his screen, and he reeled back in horror.

He recovered enough to turn on the sound to his computer. "...memorial service is expected within the next week. But the tragic shooting at the White House isn't the only worry on retired Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill's mind at the moment. We've just received word from the FBI that they have sent out an amber alert for the O'Neill children, Grace, who's thirteen, and Jacob, who's five, who went missing at about the time of the shooting."

Pictures of the two children appeared on the screen.

"White House spokesperson, Bryson Netting, said today in a second unscheduled press conference that it is unclear at this time whether the shooting and the abduction were launched in tandem by a United States based terrorist organization or if the two events just happened to coincide."

A man, in his early thirties, dressed in a white shirt, blue suit, and red tie, stood in front of a pulpit bearing the White House emblem. "Our hearts go out to the O'Neill family at this time. Our country has lost one of our best and brightest with General Carter's passing, and we pray that her legacy will be passed on for many years to come by her missing children. We ask every American to be vigilant and call the FBI tip line if they've discovered any clue as to the whereabouts of these children. Thank you."

The man left the stand as the female reporter's voice returned. "This is CNN's Jacqueline Nightingale reporting from Washington."

The video closed, and Bill Lee closed the application window in shock. So, it was true. Not only was she dead, but her children were missing as well.

"Dr. Lee."

He looked up to find Jack O'Neill, standing in the doorway to the lab.

"General O'Neill, I just heard. I'm...I'm so sorry."

"I need to know everything that Carter worked on in the last few years."

"Everything?" Lee asked, his eyebrows shooting upward in surprise.

"Her biggest fear was that Grace and Jacob would abducted." Jack said, simply. "She wouldn't have just left us without any options."

Lee sighed. "Well, uh..." He inhaled. "She came to me just a...about 24 hours ago. She asked me to make an...Anti...anti-Prior device. She said that her son might be in danger, and that she was afraid that they might try to use the device against him."

"And did you?"

"Use the device against your son?" He asked, nervously pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

"Make the Anti-Anti-Prior device." Mitchell said, shaking his head.

"Oh. Uh, well, I'm...I'm..." He looked up, sheepishly. "I'm still working on it."

Jack exhaled, heavily. "What else?" He asked after a moment. "What else did Sam work on?"

"Just a few...modifications to the Asgard scanner."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "My wife, the most brilliant woman on the face of the planet has been working part-time with the SGC and ALL she's been working on was modifications to the Asgard scanner?"

"Well, besides the Anti-anti-Prior device, that was the only one that was her idea." He amended, quickly.

Suddenly, Jack's face brightened slightly. "Was she successful in making the modifications?"

Lee nodded, earnestly. "You weren't kidding when you said she was the most brilliant woman on the face of the planet." He said, seriously. "In fact, when she suggested the project, I thought she was crazy...I mean, this is technology that was built by the Asgard, for cryin' out loud."

He won a sharp look from General O'Neill, and he quieted. "She wanted to modify the Asgard scanners so that they could not only locate a unique energy signature, but also so they could scan the planet for any quantifiable unique properties. Obviously, the most readily available quantification of one's uniqueness lies in the very make-up of their..."

"DNA," Jack interrupted. "I know." He turned to Mitchell. "I need the _George Hammond _to beam me to my home. I'll c all when I'm ready to be picked up again."

Mitchell nodded as the two men disappeared from the lab.


	38. What Now?

The last thing she remembered was darkness closing in on her. She had fought the darkness with all of the courage and strength she could muster, but still it had slowly taken over.

_"What about the kids?"_ Her husband had demanded as unconsciousness overwhelmed her.

She was no longer in total darkness. At some point, the darkness which had pressed itself upon her with unforgiving fury had been infiltrated by the smallest ray of light.

It had been the beacon which had pulled her back to consciousness.

"Jack?"

Her voice seemed to echo through the vast emptiness, causing Sam's mind to work at a furious pace to make sense of it all. This space seemed to defy all that she knew about physics. She'd always been taught that nature abhorred a vacuum, but this space seemed to have nothing in it – not even the invisible molecules that covered the air on Earth and the other inhabitable planets which she'd visited.

"Grace?" She murmured, worriedly. "Jacob?"

There was no answer, and Sam felt her heart race in concern. But before she could say or do anything else, the small ray of light which had broken up the darkness began to spread gradually so that after a few moments, the light had enveloped her completely.

Where the Asgard beam could be a disconcerting experience, feeling like every molecule of one's being was being torn apart and then reassembled, going from breathless agony one moment where every nerve was active to absolute numbness the next and back to breathless agony before one was released from the beam, this light seemed to bring only peace. It seemed to transport one's essence – or, like what she'd seen when Ascended beings transformed from matter to energy – not necessarily their body, to another plane, and when she became aware of her surroundings again.

With a start, she recognized the house that RepliCarter had described to her so many years earlier, complete with the aged willow tree in the back yard that she used to lay under in the summer.

The pain which had radiated from her shoulder was gone now, and she rotated her shoulder in wonder. Even the minor stiffness in her joints which had settled over her in the natural process of aging had evaporated, and a foolish grin stole over her features.

"When I first got here, it was like just after I'd gotten Selmak," a familiar voice said with a laugh. "No more pain...and a lot more hair."

She whirled around as tears sprang, unbidden to her eyes. "Dad?" She asked, her signature mega-watt smile growing on her face.

"Hiya, kid." He said with an affectionate smile of his own.

With the energy of youth, she ran toward him and hugged him tightly.

After several moments, she pulled away. "I've missed you so much." She whispered as she brushed away the tears in her eyes. "There were so many times when I...I didn't know what to do, and I wished I could call you up..."

"Well, I'm here now." He said with an easy shrug.

As her current circumstances melded with her memories of what had happened earlier, she took a few steps back from her father. "You're dead." She said, shaking her head. " This...this isn't..."

"Sam," Jacob said with a small sigh. "You're right. I am dead."

He seemed to want to say something else, but he didn't. Still, his unspoken words hang in the air.

"Are you saying that I'm..." She began, slowly. She didn't finish her sentence as she let that thought sink in. "Poor Jack," she whispered. "First, he has to deal with the kids going missing and now this..." She swallowed down tears. "It'll kill him."

"Come inside," her father invited, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he led her to the house. "Your mom has been waiting a long time to see you again."

She stopped instantly. "Mom?" She managed, her voice cracking with emotion.

He nodded, and tears flooded her eyes instantly. "I'd always hoped, but I never thought..."'

"Come on, Sammie," Jacob coaxed, gently. "Your mother's waiting."

* * *

"General O'Neill, we were so sorry to hear...I mean, she..."

The technician faltered for a moment. "It was a privilege to serve under her command, sir."

Jack barely nodded in acknowledgment of the technician's praise. If this airman had been on board the _George Hammond _when Sam had commanded it, he'd been with it since it's maiden voyage. His jaw tensed for a moment. One look at the ship's surroundings would bring memories of his wife to the surface which he couldn't afford to handle right now.

"How does this work?" He asked, holding a miniature pair of jeans with a bloody tear in the knee and a hairbrush.

"We, uh, take these to the infirmary where they run the DNA sequencing. General Carter put together a program which sends the sequence to the Asgard beaming program."

"How long will that take?"

"Well, the Asgard core speeds up the process considerably," the tech said, slowly. "But even then, it will probably take a couple of hours at least."

Jack nodded as he handed the items to the airman. "Then, I'll let you get to work." He inhaled, a grim look settling over him. "Time is of the essence here."

He looked over at Mitchell, who'd accompanied him. He sighed, softly. "I should probably get back to Earth while we're waiting for that to happen."

Mitchell nodded instantly, turning to the technician who stood at the controls.

"Where to, General?"

He pressed a hand to his forehead. "Same place...I...I have to...to touch base with a few people." He swallowed. "Just...send me home."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

They'd fallen asleep sometime after Jacob finished his ramblings about how Teal'c would take care of all the bad guys with all of the moves that the Jaffa had been teaching the five-year-old. His exuberance had tired him more quickly, and when he'd fallen asleep, she'd had nothing to do but think until she, too, succumbed to the exhaustion of the flesh.

They were still cramped in that strangely-crafted coffin-like container, but now, Grace could feel, to some minor degree, the change which had occurred in the craft's movement. It hadn't taken her long to realize that the feeling of nails pricking each and every nanometer of her body had been the effect of the Asgard beaming technology's demolecularization of her being and transporting it to another place. Probably a ship.

And if she was right, that ship had just begun to land.

"Grace?" Jacob murmured, sleepily.

"Yeah?" She asked, looking over at the little boy who had somehow managed to snuggle close to her in the confined space.

"Mommy and Daddy will find us, won't they?" He asked, softly. "Before the bad men hurt us?"

"I'm sure they're almost here," Grace assured. "But why don't we help them out?"

"What do you mean?"

"When they open this thing up, I want you to take the heaviest object around and smash it into their heads, okay?"

"But Mommy and Daddy said..."

"Trust me, Jacob." She interrupted. "Mom and Dad would be okay with you using your gift to hurt these people."

He sighed. "Okay."

"We're going to be okay." She said, sounding more certain than she really was. "With your gift and my..." She swallowed. Her dreams had been silent since they'd been taken. "My brains," she finished. "We'll get out of here okay."

Suddenly, the little movement Grace was able to feel stopped. They must have reached the surface of whatever planet their abductors had taken them.

"Where are we, Grace?" Jacob whispered, obviously having felt the same change.

"I don't know." She admitted. "On Earth maybe. Or we could be somewhere else."

"What are they going to do to us?" He asked, timidly.

"Nothing – we're going to stop them before they can." Grace said, firmly.

"But what if we can't stop them?" He asked, even more quietly.

"We're going to stop them." She said, her voice wavering slightly. "Because I don't know what will happen if we don't.."

* * *

Mark Carter had been through a lot in his life – his mother had died when he'd only been seventeen, he'd become estranged from his father for something like fifteen years, he'd married, had children, become the managing payroll executive for a law firm in Denver, Colorado, and waited by the phone nervously for any call that his sister had been injured or killed in the line of duty. But none of that had prepared him to see the news that morning.

With CNN's usual attention to grim detail, he had actually seen the sight of his sister being shot and falling to the ground in her final moments.

He'd turned on the news to monitor what the FBI was doing in terms of an amber alert. He'd known she'd been shot, but to have the news anchor announce her death had been a blow. Why hadn't Jack called him? Why hadn't one of her friends called if Jack had been unable to call?

He walked slowly and tiredly up the walk to the O'Neill house. The FBI had suggested that he move from Charlie and Cassandra's home to the O'Neills' house since Charlie had arrived only a few hours earlier to rest while his wife recuperated in the hospital. "In case the children manage to escape and are only able to get home."

He bent down to the potted plant on the stoop. The plant's container was what Sam had termed "self-watering" because of the internal reservoir and ventilated base. In one of the ventilation shafts toward the back, was where Sam had hidden the extra key.

He reached behind the plant and retrieved it before he used it to enter the front door. With a heavy sigh, he closed the door. He was the only one left now. First, his mother, then, his father, and now Sam. The Jacob Carter family was now almost entirely gone.

Oh, sure, he had children, and they were beginning the part of their lives where they would have children, and Sam had left behind a husband and two children, well, three, or four, if you added the somewhat mysterious connection Sam had to Charlie and Cassandra. But it wasn't the same. The one person left on this planet who had known him for almost all of his life was gone.

As he turned back to the rest of the house, having locked the door behind him, he blinked in disbelief. A bright light flooded the room and suddenly dissipated once again. In its place stood retired Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill, whose face showed quite a bit of surprise at the sight of his brother-in-law.

"What the hell were you and Sam involved in?" He finally breathed as he overcame his shock.

Jack swallowed. "That's...that's a long story. You should probably sit down."


	39. Escape

The rocking steady of their container told Grace that they were being transported, by hand, to some specified location which had been prepared for their arrival.

"Grace?" Jacob whispered, sounding fairly weak.

"What?" She was getting a little annoyed with his questions.

"I'm sick." He admitted.

Grace couldn't help but grimace. The rocking motion of the last few minutes had also begun to turn her stomach. However, the idea of being locked inside this container after Jacob had lost his cookies did not sound at all appealing. "I'm sure we're almost there." She said, hoping that she was right. "I mean, they wouldn't carry us by hand if it was a long trip."

Jacob cuddled close to her, and Grace wished internally that he hadn't. It was getting warm in the container and the extra body heat was only adding to her own nausea. It wasn't long, however, before Grace could hear Jacob's soft snoring and feel his deep, even breathing. Somehow, the five-year-old had fallen asleep.

Fighting a bubble of irritation which had welled up within her, she tried to remember what her mother would have told her if they were at home. _Leave him alone, angel. He's sick. He needs his rest._

Grace inhaled deeply in an effort to fight off her nausea, and to calm herself. It worked, if only a little. Finally, as she decided that she was definitely going to lose the battle with her stomach, the rocking stopped, and they were placed on solid ground.

"Jacob!" She whispered, harshly.

The little boy gasped instantly as he awoke. "What?" He whimpered, having recovered from his initial fright.

"Remember the plan," she murmured as the container's segmented cover was stripped away little by little.

* * *

"I have to admit," Sam said as her mother offered her a cup of tea. "I never thought heaven would be quite so, uh...suburban."

Elizabeth Carter chuckled softly as she shared a knowing look with her husband. "It's different for everyone," she said, looking back at her daughter as she finished her chuckle.

Sam inhaled as she lifted her mug. "I also kind of expected that there would be a reflecting pool or something where I could check on my husband and children..." She murmured just before she took a sip.

Elizabeth grew far more serious. "There's no reflecting pool."

"No way to know what's going on with my family." She said, swallowing as she put the ceramic mug back down. "I'd say that's more like hell than heaven."

She watched her parents exchange the glances that they would often share when she was younger. It always meant that there was something they knew that they didn't know how to tell her.

"What?" She asked, finally.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, tensing her shoulders as she bit the inside of her cheek. It was a look that Sam had inherited from her mother when she was about to say something that might be met with less enthusiasm than any other news. "You're not...exactly...dead." She finally admitted.

Sam blinked in surprise. "Not...exactly?" She questioned.

"Sam, you're in surgery." Jacob said, from where he sat beside his wife with his hand curled protectively over hers.

"Surgery." Sam repeated as she tried to clarify.

"You were shot." Elizabeth continued. "When you were admitted to the hospital, they determined that surgery was required to remove the bullet and repair any damage done to your lung."

"So, I'm...under anesthesia?" Sam asked, her brow furrowed.

"No." Jacob said, shaking his head. "I mean...yes, but there were complications during the surgery."

"What kind of complications?"

"Well, any time there's a possibility of lung collapse, surgery can be very risky." Elizabeth explained, gently. "But on top of that, you had a blood clot that emerged. You're having what some might term a near-death experience if you survive, and..."

"What we call a pre-death orientation if you don't." Jacob said, finishing his wife's sentence soberly.

Sam swallowed, mirroring the look her mother had just given her. "So...that's why I don't know what's going on with Jack and the kids." She said, slowly.

Elizabeth nodded.

"Do you know what's happening?" She asked, looking at them vulnerably.

"Well, Mark's learning a lot about what's really been going on the last twenty years," Jacob chuckled. "Apparently, he accidentally showed up with Jack beamed into your house."

Sam grimaced. Her conservative brother wouldn't take the news of secret, extra-terrestrial exploits by the United States Air Force very well – especially when he found out that at one time or another, both his father and sister had carried aliens within their bodies. And if he found out that Grace and Cassandra were aliens, and that Charlie was Jack's presumed-dead son who had been reunited with his family after being abducted by aliens...

No, that conversation would not end well for Jack.

"Grace and Jacob are being held captive by a group of scientists who are determined to study their..."extra-terrestrial" gifts." Elizabeth said, softly.

"I knew it," Sam murmured, derisively. "I should never have gone to DC."

"It's not like you had much of a choice." Jacob reminded her.

Sam's jaw tensed, knowing that her father's words were true. "That only makes it more frustrating," she said after a moment. "I know Jack too well to believe that he's just sitting there, telling Mark about the Stargate Program. Something else is going on."

"When he beamed into your home, he'd just submitted samples of your children's DNA to the team aboard the _George Hammond_." Elizabeth said, simply. "When he's finished with Mark, he plans to visit Charlie and Cassandra while he's waiting."

"How is Cassandra?" Sam asked, softly.

"She's fine. No lasting damage." Jacob assured.

"And the twins?"

"Also fine." Elizabeth soothed.

Sam exhaled slowly. "So, I just wait until I know for sure whether or not this is going to be my new permanent address?"

Jacob's brows furrowed as he shared a look with Elizabeth.

"What?" Sam asked, catching the glance between her parents again.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "Not...exactly..."

Sam raised an interested eyebrow.

"You need to send a message to your kids if you want them to survive."

"A message?" She asked, perplexed. "How?"

Elizabeth looked down at the table, and Jacob managed a wan smile.

Suddenly, it all made sense to Sam. "You want me to send my daughter a vision." She said, her eyes wide. "You want me to do the one thing I swore I'd never do to her."

"If you don't," Elizabeth said, slowly. "There's no telling what will happen."

* * *

"Aliens," Mark whispered in an absolute stupor. "My sister has been fighting aliens."

Jack nodded slowly.

"And you say this started back in '97?" He asked, his face twisted as if the thought was almost painful.

"Well, that's when she started going through the Stargate," Jack admitted. "She'd been working on the project for a few years before that."

"Right. Just trying to get this 'Stargate' to work." He said, rubbing his temples with his long fingers. "Oh, I have a headache."

Jack managed a thin smile as he reached into the kitchen cabinet, pulled out some aspirin, and then went to get his brother-in-law a glass of water.

With nimble fingers, Mark popped the aspirin into his mouth and took a swig from the cup as if he was downing a shot of hard liquor. "Did Dad know about this?" He asked, looking back at Jack.

Jack bit his lip, but apparently the look on his face told Mark all that he needed to know.

"Of course he did. He was probably fighting aliens right alongside her!"

"If it hadn't been for your dad," Jack began, somewhat cryptically. "We probably wouldn't be standing here, having this conversation. We owe a lot to your dad."

"Sounds like we owe a lot to my sister too." Mark said, quietly.

"I know I, at least, owe her my life a half-dozen times over." Jack said, his thoughts elsewhere.

"So, let me try to get this straight." Mark said, putting his hands out as if trying to use his hands to maintain his balance mentally in the same way he would try to maintain it physically. "That _thing_ that you just did–that 'beam-me-up-Scotty' thing–that was you coming back to Earth from a ship we have in orbit right now?"

Jack nodded, and Mark shook his head in agitation. "I suppose next you're going to tell me that Sam's not really dead, just–aboard one of these ships."

Jack's face lined instantly with pain, and Mark felt instant regret. "I'm sorry, Jack, I shouldn't–I shouldn't have said that."

Jack walked around to where his brother-in-law was sitting at the breakfast bar, and sat beside him. Then, he released a long and heavy sigh. "I'm sure you're aware that when you're an Air Force general, threats are kind of part of the territory–between political threats, threats on your life, general threats of attack...all of that comes with the stars."

Mark nodded, wondering what this had anything to do with his mistaken insinuation that Sam wasn't really dead.

"A few weeks ago, we got word from one of our contacts in the NID that Sam's life was in danger. Someone that the NID had under surveillance decided to try and blackmail one of Sam's friends into turning a blind eye to their activities in exchange for Sam's safety."

"Did Sam have anything to do with the case?" Mark asked, surprised.

Jack shook his head. "In fact, the threat came almost out of nowhere."

Mark's brow furrowed as he tried to process what he was hearing.

"Anyway, we were set up with an NID security detail, and we started our own research into the threat, and we learned a whole lot more than we ever wanted to know–than we should have ever needed to know since Sam and I are both retired." Jack continued. "At the same time, Grace was having nightmares, and they all seemed to be warning us about something that was coming–some danger we wouldn't be able to see.

"Eventually, we decided that the security team was more of a liability than a protection."

"Why?" Mark asked, surprised.

Jack swallowed. "Have you noticed that Jacob has a strange ability to get things more quickly than he used to?"

"Yeah." Mark said, nodding. "Why?"

"He was born with telekinetic powers. Sam had them when she was pregnant with him, and Jacob's gift started emerging about the same time as the threats against Sam's life."

"Telekinetic powers?" Mark asked, blinking in his incomprehension. "But he's not an alien. That's–that's impossible."

Jack bit the inside of his cheek before he finally continued. "Jacob is an important step in the evolution of our race."

Mark couldn't believe his ears. "Your five-year-old is an important step in our evolution? What–is he some genetic experiment?"

Jack shook his head. "His birth was completely natural, and in most things, he's just like everyone else his own age."

"He just has a knack for moving things with his mind." Mark finished.

Jack nodded. "Exactly."

Mark exhaled. "So, because you didn't have a security detail from the NID, my sister was shot and killed."

Jack grew especially quiet before he shook his head. "Sam's in surgery."

Mark's eyes widened. "What?" He demanded after the initial shock wore off.

"Someone captured the shooting, and someone at the hospital told the press that Sam was dead. It's been spreading like wildfire ever since."

"You couldn't pick up a phone?" Mark demanded, angrily.

Jack turned purple with rage at his brother-in-law's insensitivity. "My daughter-in-law is in the hospital, my children are missing, and my wife, whose life was threatened by someone trying to get out of paying the consequences of their actions, is in the hospital after being shot at in the _White House_, which supposedly has some of the _best_ security in the world!" He took a breath. "Tell me, Mark, just_ what_ should I have done?"

The two men fell into a tense silence as they tried to regain control of their emotions and the situation. Mark, who felt foolish for questioning his brother-in-law's actions, turned to Jack. "I'm sorry."

Jack nodded, briefly, accepting the apology. "I'm sorry too. It's not your fault that we're in this situation."

Mark nodded, accepting Jack's apology. "How's she doing?" He finally asked.

Jack's jaw tensed, and Mark recognized the little movement as a bit of a defensive move to keep his emotions from spilling out again.

"She's–" Jack began, his voice wavering slightly. He paused for a moment, and then began in a stronger voice. "When I left the hospital, the doctors said it could go either way."

Mark bit back a comment about how Jack had left his little sister alone, and just nodded before patting the older man's shoulder. "She's tough," he finally murmured. "I think we both know she's going to make it."

Jack managed a wan smile. "That's what I keep telling myself."

* * *

Jacob O'Neill's stomach had begun doing backflips as the 'door' to the box that him and Grace began to open. Grace wanted him to hurt the bad guys just like a Jedi, but his head hurt and the room was spinning. His tummy hurt, and he wanted to go home. He wanted his mommy to hold him and brush his hair away from his face and watch "Star Wars: The Clone Wars" with him until he fell asleep, like she always did when he was sick.

"Well, if it isn't the little brats themselves," a tall, dark-haired man with a dark-purple nose said.

"Mr. MacNamara," Grace spat. "I _hope_ your nose doesn't hurt too badly."

Jacob looked up at his sister. Even though she could be mean at home, she'd never sounded like this before. She looked at him, and gently motioned with her head toward the rest of the room.

Right, he remembered. He was supposed to be getting them out of here.

He looked quickly around the room as Grace was getting grabbed by the arm by the tall man with the purple nose. With his hands outstretched, Jacob closed his eyes and concentrated. _I want the big heavy black thing in the corner to hit the big, scary man in the back._ He thought to himself.

He braced himself for impact, but nothing came and nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see one man giving him a disgusting smile, the few teeth that were still in his mouth brown and dirty. "'Ay! Look a' dis 'un! Dis 'un finks he's a Jedi!" The man said with a heavy accent, and Jacob grimaced as he got a whiff of the man's awful breath.

He was never going to fight his mom and dad on brushing his teeth ever again, he decided instantly.

The first man threw Grace against the ground and walked over. "You can thank your mommy for making a machine that keeps you from using your special powers." He said, kneeling in front of Jacob so that they were at eyelevel. "You can keep trying, but it's not going to work. So, let's just say you cooperate, okay?"

Jacob's eyes darkened in fury. Instantly, his little fist hit the man in the purple nose, and he fell backward, clutching his face. Then, he ran at the man with the smelly breath and kicked him in the shins.

"I don't fink so," the man said, picking him up easily. "Not very good manners to try and hurt the people who are tryin' ta help you."

"LEMME GO!" Jacob yelled, hitting and punching at his captor angrily.

"Shut up!" He yelled as he thrust Jacob into a chair, and strapped his arms and legs into the leather restraints.

As soon as he finished, Grace leaped up into the air and began to attack him. The man with the purple nose, who had recovered from Jacob's surprise attack, grabbed her and threw her across the room so that she hit the wall and slumped forward. Then, he turned to Jacob, blood dripping from his purple nose. "If you try to run away again," he began slowly. "I'll hurt your sister. You hear me?"


	40. Experiments

"Why can't you do it?" Sam asked, looking up at her mother. "You're the one who has been giving her the visions so far."

Elizabeth tensed. "I can't give her this one."

Sam's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"There are rules," Jacob said after a moment.

"Are you kidding me?" She demanded almost instantly. "You crossed the line of non-interference a long time ago!"

"Sam, we're not talking about the rules of ascension," Jacob said, shaking his head. "We're not ascended. At least, not in the way you think. We are on another plane of existence, but it's a plane that the Alterans were afraid of, so they made it seem as if it was beneath them."

Sam eyed her father, suspiciously. "How did you know that name?"

"Alteran?" Jacob asked, surprised. "Because I've been watching you. Because there are some of the 'Ancients' who finally embraced the unknown, and joined us here."

"Samantha," Elizabeth said, soberly. "I know you've been through false scenarios more times than you can count, and that even when you're at home and safe, you've got a suspicion in the back of your mind that everything isn't really as wonderful as it seems."

Sam tensed. "All that proves is that you have a rather elaborate technology capable of reading my mind." She said, studying her mother with the same wary eye.

Jacob rubbed his forehead. "Sam, believe me, I've been where you are."

"Oh?" She asked, turning around on her father. "With the possibility of death on the table, your step-daughter-in-law who's pregnant in the hospital with at the very least a very intense sinus headache, your two other children abducted by scientists–with whom you can relate on at least some level, and your parents, who have been dead for at least ten years, show up while you're apparently in surgery–"

"Okay, not exactly where you've been," Jacob corrected after a few moments. "But while I was with the Tok'ra, I had a lot of the same experiences as you did with the goa'uld."

Sam ignored her father's argument. "You said there were rules," she said, turning to her mother. "What rules?"

Elizabeth inhaled. "The privilege of interference is strictly limited to your most immediate family members."

"So, you can still help her. Her relationship to you hasn't changed."

"No," Elizabeth said, shaking her head, unable to bring her eyes up to meet her daughter's. "It hasn't." Then, she looked up. "But I'm no longer the closest family member she has up here."

Sam shook her head. "Fine. Send me back. You can send her all the visions you want to send her if you really are who you say you are."

"It's not that simple," Jacob said with a sigh.

"Well, it can't be that complicated either." Sam snapped, angrily.

"Samantha, we didn't bring you here," Elizabeth explained, gently. "And we're not the ones in charge of sending you back. You're here for a reason–even if it's just temporary right now."

"You're asking me to give my daughter a vision," Sam said, rounding on her mother instantly. "And if I do that and you aren't who you claim to be, I could be exposing my daughter to even more danger!"

Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but his wife beat him. "Samantha, it's your choice." She said, simply. "But at some point, you have to decide between fear and faith."

Sam studied her mother for a few moments. "You said something like that when I was doing my first science experiment." She said, softly, as her suspicions slowly ebbed away. "You said I could choose to make the experiment a success or a failure. It wasn't whether or not my hypothesis was right. It was whether or not I learned something from the experiment."

"Sam, you're not going to know for certain whether we're telling the truth until this whole thing is over. Now, your kids are going to be in danger unless you send Grace a vision. If you do, their odds of surviving this ordeal, and even becoming successful in spite of it, are much higher."

"I don't know what to tell her," Sam finally whispered with tears in her eyes.

"That's why you're not alone," Elizabeth said as she walked over and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

* * *

Charlie pulled his black Toyota Highlander hybrid into the parking lot at the hospital. He slipped out of the car, and easily locked the door with his keyfob as he headed toward the entrance.

For the first time, his home was uninviting. The authorities had taken Doc's corpse, and they'd taken samples of all the things that were out of place. Then, they'd given Charlie a card for a cleaning service that specialized in crime scene clean-up.

Even after they'd left, the house had seemed changed somehow as if a dark shadow had settled over it. Charlie suspected it would feel that way until the children had returned and possibly even afterward.

He sighed heavily as he walked down the corridors of the hospital, toward his wife's room.

If Grace and Jacob came back, they'd be in for the cruelest joke in history, he thought grimly, to feel the relief of coming home only to find out that their mother had died.

He knew what it was like to be abducted in the name of science. He knew what it was like to lose his parents since his adoptive parents had died when a fever spread through the village when he was fifteen. He knew what it was like to come back and feel like your whole world had crumbled into something almost unrecognizable. But at least both of his parents had been alive when he returned.

He paused in front of the door to his wife's room. The depth of his gratitude that she'd survived whatever attack had happened to her and that the twins still seemed active and healthy was almost impossible to describe. He also knew what it was like to lose a wife and child in childbirth. He didn't know what he would have done if she hadn't survived.

Even her grief over Sam's death was something he could handle as long as she was still there to feel the grief.

Finally, he inhaled and opened the door.

"Charlie."

"Dad." He murmured, looking over at where his dad was standing by the side of Cassandra's bed. "I was so sorry to hear–"

Jack nodded solemnly as he interrupted his son's sentiment. "I need to talk to you two." He said as the door closed.

Charlie looked at Cassandra in surprise, and she shrugged. "He got here just a little before you did." She said, simply.

Charlie nodded and looked over. "What is it?"

Jack inhaled before he began. "Sam–Sam's not dead."

Cassandra rocked back in violent surprise. "What?"

"I didn't even know it had been leaked to the press until I saw it on CNN." Jack said, shaking his head. "After it had been leaked, I couldn't exactly call to let you know what had happened, especially since the White House Chief of Staff took an interest in the publicity. So I'm here."

Cassandra inhaled, attempting to recover from the sudden revelation that Sam wasn't actually dead. Then, she studied Jack. It was as if someone had taken a sculpting knife to his face and carved the deep lines in his forehead, around his eyes and mouth and even down his neck. While she was rather certain that the uncertainty surrounding his children's disappearance would make him look old, she had a hunch that while Sam was not dead, she was not out of the woods. "Sam's in surgery, isn't she?"

Jack looked over in surprise. "How did you know that?" He asked, instantly.

"If she was out of surgery, and the doctors were even just hopeful that she'd make a full recovery, you wouldn't have looked like you were telling us bad news when you said that she wasn't dead."

He sighed as he nodded. "Teal'c's still there at the hospital in case someone tries to finish what they started."

"And the kids?"

"Before she was shot, Sam was working on a few different pieces of technology that we're using to find the kids. One of them was a modification to the _George Hammond's_ Asgard scanners which would allow us to use the uniqueness of DNA to locate individuals. I've taken up some samples of the kids' DNA and the computer's working on that. They should be finished soon."

Cassandra managed a thin smile. "That's good to hear."

"I swear, when I find out who's responsible–" Jack began, angrily. He stopped himself before he turned to Cassandra. "I just wanted to find out how you were doing and let you know that despite what the news is saying, Sam's still with us."

"You'll let us know if you need anything," Cassandra said, eying him sternly.

The older man turned a compassionate smile to his daughter-in-law. "You keep yourself healthy and safe, and I'll consider that the greatest contribution to this whole endeavor, okay?"

Cassandra opened her mouth to speak, but Jack raised a hand to stop her. "Sam would never forgive me if she woke up to find that something happened to you and those babies because I couldn't handle things on this end."

Cassandra closed her mouth again, and nodded slowly. "The important thing is getting those kids back, safe and sound." She said after a moment.

Charlie and Jack nodded their agreement.

"Well," Jack sighed as he looked at his phone. "I guess it's time to make the call..."

"Keep us informed," Charlie said, softly.

Jack placed a hand on his son's shoulder, gratefully. "That, I will do." He promised. Then, he sent a text message and he was gone.

* * *

When Grace awoke, she was strapped to a chair, her arms and legs bound by steel restraints, facing her Jacob whose angelic little face was now streaked with tears and lined with terror.

"Jacob," she murmured, softly. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

"They said they'd hurt you if we tried to run away again," he whimpered. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I want Mommy. I want to go home."

Grace felt her own feelings of fear spring up inside of her, and she tried to hold back her own tears. "Jacob, Mom and Dad are going to find us. Until they do, we have to be brave, okay? Teal'c's been teaching you everything you need to know in case this ever happened. Remember that kel'noreem thing?"

Jacob sniffed as he nodded.

"Well, when they come back, I want you to be in Kel'noreem, okay? I want them to think you're asleep. You can't help them if you're asleep."

"Why do they want to hurt us?" Jacob asked, his lower lip trembling. "Why did they take us?"

"Because we're different," Grace said, matter-of-factly. "We're not kids to them. We're weird science experiments."

"But–" Jacob began.

They heard footsteps, and Grace's heart began to race as adrenaline was pumped through her veins. "Quick, Jacob! Like I told you!"

The five-year-old nodded swiftly, and closed his eyes. He was still rigid for a few moments before his body finally relaxed into the peace of meditation. Grace released a heavy sigh of relief as a scientist appeared, wearing a white lab coat.

"Miss O'Neill." The scientist, a balding man in his early fifties, said with a twisted smile as if he was greeting some experimental animal. "My files tell me that you're from another planet. Hanka, isn't that right? The same planet that your sister-in-law is from."

Grace kept her mouth firmly shut, barely glancing at the scientist.

"I'm only speaking to you out of courtesy," he said, his hands clasped behind his back as he circled her like a vulture circled a carcass. "To the rest of the scientists you're just a theory to be proven or disproven. A simple series of tests to be run. A body to be eventually buried when we've run out of questions."

Grace swallowed at the implication that it was no one's intention that she survive the testing.

"Oh, don't worry, Miss O'Neill. Your death will probably save lives. People with conditions to which your evolution has made you immune will thank you for your sacrifice." Then, he paused. "Well, they would thank you if they knew anything about you."

Grace's jaw tightened as she followed the man with her eyes. "What about Jacob?" She whispered.

"Your brother?" He asked with a disinterested smile. "Oh, we already know why he can do what he does. We just want to find out how to make other people capable of the same thing. We'll probably have to do several biopsies of his muscle tissue and his glands. Not to mention test how his nerves work. He'll be in agony, to be sure, but hopefully, we'll learn what we need to learn without taking any brain tissue samples." He shrugged his shoulders as if he was making some matter-of-fact decision. "Although, if we have to, we have to."

"You leave my brother alone!" Grace warned, trying to pull herself out of the restraints.

The scientist just laughed softly at her attempt. "You're so pitiful," he said, shaking his head. "You know, my files tell me more than just about your unorthodox lineage. It also mentions that you have visions. Dreams that predict the future." His face grew hard. "Obviously, you've lost your touch."

Grace's heart sank as he nodded to a group waiting outside the door. Instantly, they swarmed in, took Jacob out of the restraints and put him on a gurney where they restrained him once again.

"Kel'noreem won't keep your brother from experiencing the pain that you've just caused him." The man said with cold hatred in his eyes. "Try another stunt like that, and we'll kill him regardless of whether or not we need his brain tissue."

The man turned back to other scientists. "It's time," he said, nodding. With that, the group pushed the gurney out of the room and out of Grace's line of sight.


	41. Instructions

"General!"

"I want coordinates, Lieutenant!" Jack barked as he appeared aboard the _George Hammond_. "Unless you can just beam my kids aboard."

"Sir, General Carter's modifications were designed to pinpoint a location _and_ to beam the target aboard." The Lieutenant began, his nerves sounding in his voice.

"So what's the problem?"

"Sir, there's some sort of jamming frequency. We can identify that the targets are there, but we can't get past the white noise to actually beam them aboard."

Jack nodded, efficiently. "You wrote down the coordinates?"

"Yes, sir."

"Give them to me," Jack said, his hand outstretched.

"Sir, I think you should know–"

Jack turned back, expectantly. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I know these coordinates." The Lieutenant said, soberly. "It's a laboratory that belongs to a subsidiary of Colson Industries."

Jack visibly started. "Are you sure it's _Colson_ Industries?"

The Lieutenant nodded. "Not many people build underwater facilities fifty miles off the coast of Georgia."

"And you know about this how?" Jack asked, eying the Lieutenant closely.

He sighed, heavily. "My brother works there."

Jack's eyebrows shot up instantly, and the Lieutenant backtracked. "Believe me, if he knew that kids were being kidnapped and experimented on, he wouldn't be working there, but–"

Jack clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Thanks for telling me." He said, soberly. "Now, I need to get back to Earth. General Mitchell's office, to be precise." He pulled away from the younger man as he bit the inside of his cheek. "Looks like I get to make a call to the President and to Alec Colson." He shook his head with a sigh. "Am I lucky or what?"

* * *

"They're being held underwater?" Sam asked, staring at her parents in confusion.

Elizabeth nodded. "Grace and Jacob don't know that–their abductors have made very sure that they think they can just get out of the facility if they can get past the guards."

Sam closed her eyes, remembering her own abduction. She'd been kept in an abandoned hospital so far from civilization that even if she, a highly trained Air Force officer, had been able to escape, she wouldn't have been able to get far before she would be caught by Adrian Conrad's hired guns.

If she had been misled to believe that she had been held in an abandoned hospital when she'd actually been held in an underwater facility which was guarded by an unidentified paramilitary force, she wouldn't have stopped fighting to be free, but she would have had a great deal less hope of returning home.

"They want Grace and Jacob to keep trying to get home." Sam said, her head snapping up in sudden realization. "They want to find out just how their powers work. How long our current defenses would hold them." She shook her head. "But why? They're just kids."

"But they won't be for too much longer," Jacob reminded her gently. "And Earth has been threatened by beings with psychic abilities in the past."

"And your son is the only being on Earth who has the remnants of many races looking to him as a future leader who will make SG-1's attempts to unify the galaxy look like child's play." Elizabeth said, looking over at her daughter.

Sam tensed. "So, what do I tell Grace?" Sam asked, biting the inside of her lip. "That she has no hope of getting out? What will her abductors do if she _stops_ fighting, and as I suspect, the point was to keep them fighting?"

Elizabeth put her hands over her daughter's clasped hands as they rested on the table. "Samantha, Grace's gift is more than just seeing dreams which predict a possible future. It's to find the warnings that exist all around us, but which are often overlooked because they come from unseen sources. And even that is only a token of her true gift."

Sam's head jerked up in surprise.

"Her gift is to transmit those warnings in any way she has to." Elizabeth patted her daughter's hand, comfortingly. "Until now, she hasn't had to do much more than simply tell you about her visions. But when she's been distant, you've known when she's had a vision, don't you? Something about her communicates to your spirit and your mind that she's seen something that the world doesn't yet know about. It's what has kept you one step ahead of everything so far. Now, you need to teach her how to use that gift a little more dramatically."

"You want me to convince her to send a message to Jack." She whispered in sudden understanding.

"I want you to convince her to do a lot more than that." Elizabeth said, seriously.

* * *

"Mr. Colson, your two-o-clock called and canceled. He's been called out of town for his father's funeral, and your three-thirty was rescheduled to two-thirty." The blond female receptionist said, efficiently.

Colson nodded his approval from where he practiced his golf swing. "Wonderful," the English man with dark curly hair said with a smile. "Maybe we'll all get out of here a bit earlier than we thought."

The receptionist smiled at the thought as she looked back down at her Blackberry. A frown creased her forehead after a moment, a change which did not escape Colson's notice. "What is it?"

"It's security, sir." She said, looking up, worriedly. "They said there's a man–"

"You can't go in there!" A loud voice interrupted as a scuffle could be heard outside the glass doors to Colson's office.

The tall man in the Air Force uniform easily shrugged the security officer's hands off of his arms as he pointed a finger at Colson. "Who the _hell_ do you think you are?"

"General O'Neill?" Colson asked, sincerely confused by the man's appearance in his office. He turned to the security guard. "It's all right. Let him go."

"But, sir–" The security guard said, confused.

"I said, let him go." Colson said as he approached the man, unafraid. He turned to his receptionist. "Give us a moment?"

She eyed the General with distrust before she followed the security guard out the door.

"I saw the news, General," Colson said, apologetically. "I may not have known her very well, but Samantha Carter was one of the best women I ever had the privilege of–"

"Is that why you tried to kill her?" Jack demanded.

"What?" Colson asked, stepping back in surprise at the accusation. "General, that was years ago, and I wasn't trying to kill her, I was trying to prove a point. An ill-advised point to the wrong person. I know that now."

"And what about my kids?" He yelled, angrily. "Wasn't it enough that you had their mother shot for the whole world to see? Did you really have to kidnap them?"

"General, what the _bloody hell _are are you talking about?" Colson cried in absolute surprise.

"At this moment," Jack said, calming down just enough to seem even more threatening than he had seemed when he'd first been yelling. "A team of Navy SEALS is preparing a tactical strike on _your_ underwater laboratory."

"Whatever for?" He asked, indignantly.

"Because you crossed a line when you took my children, Colson." Jack said, his eyes hardened with hatred.

"Took them for what?" Colson asked, shaking his head in disbelief. He reached for the phone. "Perhaps I should call my personal psychiatrist. It's obvious that Samantha's death was too much for you to–"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY KIDS?" Jack yelled, grabbing the CEO by the lapels and lifting him several inches off the ground.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Alec returned just as passionately as the security detail returned.

Jack released his hold on the business man, and after straightening his tie, he waved security away as he walked over to the mini-bar. "Something tells me we'll both be more able to relax if we each have a drink," Colson said, pouring himself a scotch and soda. "What'll it be?"

"Nothing." Jack said, inhaling deeply as he tried to regain control of his rapid heart rate and the pressure he could almost feel building in his chest. "If I'm going to be any help to my kids, I need to be alert."

"You said something about Navy SEALS going down to my underwater facility," Alec said, taking a sip of the drink. "Because of your children?"

"They were abducted," Jack said, soberly. "At the same time that Sam was shot. We've tracked them to your underwater laboratory."

"Using alien technology, no doubt?" Colson guessed.

"The point is, Colson, that we had a deal. Or rather, you and Sam had a deal. You keep quiet about the Program and you keep your government contracts. Not to mention, we protect you from the Trust."

"As I recall my Vice-President and best friend was killed shortly after we made that deal," Colson said, contemptuously.

"Officially, it was a suicide," Jack said, shaking his head. "But that's neither here nor there. The point is, it wasn't us."

"If I'm going to believe that, is it too much of a stretch to ask you to believe that I have _absolutely_ no idea why one of my laboratories is somehow connected to a plot to kill your wife and kidnap your children?" He asked, studying the other man seriously. "I mean, I did lose my own wife and child several years ago. It's not exactly something I would push on another human being."

"If you're not involved, I need information. Access codes, emergency hatches, blueprints, layouts, everything." Jack said, seriously.

"Of course." Colson said, nodding. "Anything you need."

"I'll also need names of anyone past or present who would have access to any of that information. Someone decided that would be the place to hide my abducted children."

Colson nodded again. "Anything I can do to help."

Jack felt his heart pound more strongly in his chest than it had in several years, and he closed his eyes as if to pray that God would help him keep this potential heart attack at bay until his kids were safe and his wife was recovering. "At the moment, a couple aspirin and some water would be helpful."

Colson's brow furrowed before he nodded to his receptionist who was hovering just outside the door. "Aspirin and water."

"Something wrong, General?" Colson asked, curiously.

"Nothing more than the fact that my wife is dead and my children are missing." Jack said with a matter-of-fact tone as he flexed his aching right hand.

* * *

The minutes ticked slowly by until Jacob, unconscious after an undetermined amount of time–which had seemed like eternity to Grace–of his periodic screams from the other room, had been returned to the room on a stretcher. Each blood-curdling scream had set her nerves on end, and she'd begun to tremble uncontrollably after Jacob's third piercing cry for their mother.

This was their abductors true form of torture, she deduced. Even the threat of death looming over her head wasn't nearly as horrible as the knowledge that her sweet and innocent baby brother had just been put through something that even most adults could probably not comprehend in its fullness.

If ever there was a time that she would have begged for a vision, this was it.

_Show me something that will save Jacob from this nightmare_, she thought, looking heavenward instinctively. _Help me save him._

One of the underlings, a man who'd clearly been hired for his brawn alone, turned a look of shame her direction before he ducked his face back away from her, and helped to pull Jacob from the stretcher so that he could be placed back in his chair, strapped down with stainless steel restraints.

She watched him closely, and once again she saw him look her direction for a moment before quickly turning away. There was the same look of shame and helplessness.

Who was this man who seemed to have a far more sensitive conscience than the rest of his colleagues?

* * *

The hazy image of Jacob lying on a gurney, his face twisted in agony as he cried out came instantly to Samantha Carter's mind, and she gripped her head with her hands as if doing so could end the transmission of the painful image. But while the image slowly dissipated, his voice reverberated in her mind. "MOMMY!" He screamed, absolute terror and exquisite pain sounding in every note of the cry.

She cringed at the sound, a emotional knife being plunged into her heart at the thought that her son was facing a loathsome torture at the tender age of five years old. The pain was almost physical despite the fact that she was not entirely corporeal in this form.

"Show me something that will save Jacob from this nightmare," came the sudden plea to her mind. "Help me save him."

"What was that?" She asked, looking at her mother for guidance as tears came to her eyes.

Elizabeth eyed the table for a moment as emotions played over her face–sadness, disappointment and grief. "Grace is calling out to you. She's sharing everything she knows with you."

Sam felt sick. "Grace watched this?" She asked, softly.

"She saw them take him away on a gurney," Jacob whispered, the lines on his face deepened in his sorrow. "And she heard the screams. Everything else is what's been playing in her mind."

"She wants a vision." Sam said, tearfully. "She's begging for a vision, and I don't know–I don't know how to give it to her."

"Take my hand," Elizabeth said, offering her right hand to her daughter.

With her hands shaking, hesitantly, Sam finally reached out and took her mother's hand.

"Close your eyes." Elizabeth instructed, gently, as she mirrored the process.

Sam swallowed before she closed her own eyes.

"Now, what I'm going to do is provide you a link to Grace."

"But what about the future part of this?" Sam asked, opening her eyes wide and pulling her hand away from her mother's.

Elizabeth opened her own eyes, grasped her daughter's hand in her own, and looked at Samantha. "You'll know what to say and when." She assured with loving comfort shining in her eyes.

Sam managed a brave smile as she closed her eyes once again. "Grace," she whispered as she began to view her daughter, sitting in a metal chair, bound by metal restraints, in a room seemingly devoid of anything but another chair where Jacob sat, bound like Grace was bound.

* * *

"Grace." The comforting sound of her mother's voice caught Grace by surprise, and she looked around her as if to locate the source of the voice.

"Mom?" She asked when she found no source of the sound. "Mom, is that you?"

* * *

"She can hear me!" Sam cried, unexpectedly breaking the connection as once again, she pulled away from her mother and opened her eyes. "Has she always been able to do that? Who has she seen? Why can she do that?"

"Samantha," Elizabeth soothed. "I'll answer your questions, but now, it is imperative that you speak with your daughter."

Sam nodded. "Of course."

She reached back over for her mother's hand and closed her eyes. "Grace, it's me. It's your mom."

* * *

"H-how is this possible?" Grace asked timidly as she tried to keep from alerting the guards and making Jacob awaken and think that she was as insane as she felt.

"I'm not exactly sure, angel," Sam admitted. "But I'm here."

"Where? Where are you?"

* * *

Sam grimaced at the question. How could she tell her thirteen-year-old who'd already been through more than any child deserved to go through that she quite possibly might be in heaven–for more than a simple visit?

Her mother squeezed her hand as if to offer her the strength that she needed to answer the question.

"That's not important right now, Grace." Samantha said, sounding more like the Air Force general she'd been five years before. "What's important right now is that you have a gift. And that you need to use it to help yourself and Jacob."

* * *

A gift? Grace wondered. "My visions?" She asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"That's only part of your gift, Grace," Sam corrected. "Your gift is to read warnings that not everyone can see and to share them."

Grace bit the inside of her cheek. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, firstly, it means that I could hear you when you asked for help." Sam said, compassionately.

"You could?" Grace asked, almost shamefully. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to know that Jacob had suffered so intensely because of her.

* * *

The feeling of shame overwhelmed Sam, and it brought tears to her eyes. "Oh, Grace, it's not your fault." She whispered, softly. "It could never be your fault, angel."

* * *

Tears welled up in Grace's eyes as she felt the love from her mother that erased her shame. "I'm scared, Mom." She whimpered as if she was five years old again, and suffering the after-effects of a nightmare.

"I know, angel. That's why I'm here. I want you to find someone who feels sympathetic to you and your brother."

* * *

An image came to Samantha's mind of a man who'd tried to remain hunched over so that he could hide his guilty face from Grace as he left the room. "Him?" Came the question from her daughter.

"Yes, Grace. He's perfect." Sam said, instantly.

"What should I do?"

"Show him what I'm about to show you," Sam instructed instantly. "It may be the only way you can help your dad save you and your brother."


	42. Memories

Charlie walked into his wife's room, not surprised to see the television tuned to the local news channel. Since his dad had shown up and assured them that Sam was not dead (yet), Cassandra had insisted on keeping as current as possible with the information on kids' disappearance.

"The doctor said you were supposed to rest," he said with a sigh as he walked into the room. "Do you really have to have that on?"

She looked over at at him in surprise. "I just thought–"

"Dad's going to know what's going on before they do, and he'll tell us when he can." He turned off the television. "I mean, just look at how they butchered the news about Sam."

"I guess I didn't think about it like that." She said, watching him closely. "How was your walk? Are you feeling better?"

"Better than what?" He asked, irritably, as he sat down in the chair beside her bed. "Better than when you were not responding to the doctor's treatments? Better than when I found out that my little brother and sister were abducted? Better than when I found out my stepmother was dead? Better than when my father showed up out of nowhere and told us that she actually wasn't dead? Yes, Cassandra, I'm doing _much_ better!"

She was silent, watching the shame steal over his face as he sighed. "I'm sorry," he murmured, apologetically. "That wasn't called for. You were just trying to help."

"Yes," she admitted as she reached for his hand. "I was. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to know what's going on in your head." Her eyes grew soft with empathy. "I was so caught up in thinking that Sam was dead and then, that she wasn't, that I didn't even think about how many awful memories must be getting stirred up in you with everything that's going on."

Charlie looked down at her hand as he struggled to keep from crying the tears which had been begging to be released for nearly all of his life, since he'd first been abducted at the tender age of ten, and then, for each of the tragedies he'd met along the road. Unable to speak, he gently squeezed her hand as he finally looked up at her with tears pooling in the corners of his eyes with absolute misery. "They–" He began, his voice breaking with emotion. "They should have been safe." He finally managed. "I should have been able to keep them safe. I should have been able to keep you safe. No one..." His lip trembled, in the depth of his emotion. "No one should ever feel like someone could just–just take them away from their family like that."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him, her lips trembling as she tried to hold back her own torrent of tears. "Oh, Charlie," she whispered, softly.

Without a word, she gathered him into his arms and together, they cried.

* * *

_All she could see was a small, round device, sitting on a metal table next to a computer._

"_Dr. Lee," she called, looking up. "I think I've made the necessary adjustments for the next test. Could you take a look at them? I just want a second pair of eyes while I go get some coffee."_

_A strangely familiar-looking man with tufts of gray hair crowning a bald spot on the top his head looked up at her behind thick glasses. "As long as you don't go up to General Landry and tell him that we've solved the problem of cold fusion."_

"_I promise." She said with a grin._

"_What frequency do you have it on?" He asked, looking from the computer screen to the device on the table._

"_It's an oscillating frequency." She said, pulling the specifics of the code up on the screen so that he could see it._

"_And what's the range?"_

"_Well, right here, I have it on a two-foot diameter so that we don't accidentally knock out any of our equipment." She said, matter-of-factly. "But in the field, I would tell our teams to keep the prior within...a hundred yards of it, and it should have the desired effects."_

"_And to turn it off?"_

_She quickly retrieved another set of numbers, flashing them up on the computer screen for just a moment. "Just take the remote and input these numbers." She said, simply._

"_What do you want to bet one of the SG-team commanders shoots it even though we've made it so easy?" Lee laughed as he retrieved the remote from beside the circular device._

_She smiled again. "Well, as far as I can tell, SG-1's going to do the field tests with a prior they've found off-world. If Daniel handles the oscillation, we should be fine. But even if someone did shoot it, the device would simply shut off."_

"_Of course, shooting it would also destroy our only working prototype."_

_She shrugged as if she couldn't change their reaction to the device with a small smile as she walked toward the doorway. "Can I get you anything while I'm gone?" She asked, pausing and turning back._

"_Coffee." The scientist said, bending over the device. "And the formula for cold fusion."_

_She laughed at the private joke. "The long or the short one?" She teased._

The vision closed, and Grace bit her lip in confusion as she heard the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer. "So, what? Am I supposed to tell him to shoot this thing?" She demanded, looking heavenward.

There was no answer as the sound of footsteps grew louder in Grace's ears.


	43. Mortality

Author's Note: I invite you to visit my profile for an important (to me, at least) announcement. Thank you, Rose

* * *

The force of being ripped from the arms of her parents which had sent Sam spiraling through the vast expanse of some unknown space had been eerily reminiscent of being thrust backward by an angry system lord. Not unlike those times, the end of her movement had come abruptly as she hit what felt like a large brick wall. As Sam took a breath in an attempt to calm herself, however, her lungs refused to receive the life-giving oxygen as if the cavities through which the air traveled had been sealed off.

Every memory she had of being underwater for a sustained period of time – from the time that they'd returned through the Stargate without Daniel to the time when she and Jack had nearly been killed by security measures in Apophis's mothership when it had crashed on Earth – surfaced in her mind, and she realized that she was drowning. The unknown force which had dictated itself her master was some sort of body of water.

What had happened? She asked herself. One moment, she'd been talking to Grace and the next moment, she'd been ripped from the comfort of heaven and submerged in the dark abyss of some cosmic ocean.

All she remembered was hearing her mother scream her name as something grabbed at her collar and thrust her down here.

Was she deemed unworthy of heaven and thrust into purgatory? Or worse?

She felt a chill come unexpectedly down her spine–she had a spine again?–as she realized that by being forced from heaven, or wherever her parents were these days, she may have just sealed her children's fate at the hands of their abductors.

She wanted to cry, but like the airways that had somehow been sealed, her tear ducts had become dysfunctional. She wanted to go back to heaven, even if it would be for the rest of eternity, because there, she could help her children. If she couldn't be there, she wanted to be a ghost, roaming the Earth for eternity, because then, she'd be able to haunt her husband and help in the search and rescue.

The need for breath, and the inability to breathe caused her thoughts to grow increasingly less coherent and more frantic.

A growing beam of light caught her attention. Little by little it came closer, but unlike the light from before, this was far from reassuring. No, it was more imperfect, but here she couldn't breathe, and if she was to live at all, she would have to go somewhere else.

She reached out for the light, almost touching it with her fingertips as she began to lose consciousness.

* * *

"Colson's on board," Jack said as he walked into the briefing room and offered a flash drive to Mitchell who was prepping the Navy SEALs on their mission. "This should be all of the information you'll need. If it's not, Colson's standing by."

Cam Mitchell nodded for a moment before he did a double-take. "General, are you–are you okay?"

Jack nodded, knowing almost instantly that the strain was showing in the pallor of his skin, the cloudiness of his eyes, and the depth of his wrinkles. "As well as can be expected, Mitchell."

The other general merely nodded before returning to the briefing. "There are two children, a five-year-old boy and a thirteen-year-old girl, being held prisoner within the confines of the facility. We don't have enough intelligence to determine why they're being held or the blueprints of the..."

Jack coughed and motioned to the flash drive.

"Of course, General, thank you." Cam said, nodding. He connected the drive to his laptop, took a few moments to observe the prints himself before he nodded. "The best entrance will be here," he said, pointing to one of the entrances on the projected blueprint. "These other entrances will probably be more closely guarded since the one I just pointed out is really just the submarine bay."

"How are we getting down?"

"Submarine." Mitchell said, easily. "Once down there, you should be able to have access to the bay. After all, this isn't exactly classified as a high-security facility."

"But Colson's no idiot either," Jack said, taking a sip of water from a glass which shook with the tremors of his right hand.

When Mitchell's eyes drifted down to the tremors, Jack put the cup down and thrust his hands into his pockets. "Look, the last thing he's going to want is some corporate tycoon sending spies. He'll have figured out some way to keep the submarine bay well guarded. But I'm sure there's a way in." Jack waved to the flash drive. "And if he didn't put it on there, he knows he'll be dealing with me."

Mitchell nodded before taking out the flash drive and handing it to his assistant, a young Lieutenant. "Get me physical copies of these files. And send a copy to Dr. Jackson. I want his input on it."

"Yes, sir." She said, accepting the drive.

He turned back to the SEALs. "Given our new information, we're postponing this briefing until we've had time to digest it. Sergeant Harriman will take you to a rec room until it's time."

The SEALs followed the veteran gate technician as Mitchell turned to Jack. "I'm not a doctor, but even I can tell–"

"I said I'm fine!" Jack snapped, interrupting the younger man.

"No." Mitchell said, more forcefully. "You're not. And if Sam were here, she'd tell you to go to the infirmary."

"Retired or not, I outrank you." Jack said, trying to cover the feelings of loss and sadness which washed over him at the mention of his wife who was lying 2000 miles away from him in a hospital where only one of her friends remained to watch over and protect her.

"I'm still the commander of this base," Mitchell said, seriously. His eyes traveled over to the SFs who were pretending not to see the exchange. "And if I ask them to, those guys over there will take you down to the infirmary."

Beads of sweat gathered along Jack's hairline as he clenched his fists in a useless effort to stay his body's betrayal.

"I don't exactly think you're in the best position to fight them right now, Jack." Mitchell said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just go to the infirmary."

"Mitchell," he murmured as his external shell cracked a little. "I can't. I can't go. Not until I know that those kids are home safe."

"And fatherless?" Mitchell asked, soberly.

Jack swallowed. "Better fatherless than motherless," he managed, thickly.

* * *

"She's stabilizing, Doctor," was the first sound Sam heard as the light she'd almost touched seemed to come into better focus in front of her. It was the surgical light she'd seen far too many times in her life, usually with Janet Fraiser leaning over her.

She gasped for breath, having been pulled from the brink of death yet again. Almost instantly, she coughed as if the breath she'd finally managed to force into her lungs had been as foreign to her body as the instruments which had just been used to retrieve the bullet in her shoulder. "The kids–" She murmured deliriously. " Jack..."

"She's waking up. We need more anesthesia." A voice announced, urgently.

A nurse hurried away from the surgical table at the command.

"General Carter," a man with a blue mask over his face said as he leaned over her. His voice was the same as the one she'd just heard. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"No," she whispered as she felt the pain of her mortality again located specifically in her shoulder. "I'm not finished...The kids, they need–they need me–"

The nurse put a mask over Sam's nose and mouth. With her uninjured hand, she tried to reach up and pull the mask off as she wriggled valiantly in an attempt to keep from being drugged. "No, I...I have to...my kids–"

Her efforts, however, were in vain as the nurse was stronger at that moment than she was. And so, it wasn't long before she found herself slipping unwillingly into a dreamless sleep.


	44. Plan A

Author's Note: For those who were interested in more information about my professional writing career, I've updated my profile with my website and the name under which I'll be writing. Thank you for all of your support.

* * *

"Dinner."

Grace's gaze went from the protein bar in front of her to the apologetic abductor who had the bar outstretched in his hand as if in a gesture of goodwill. She looked beyond him to where Jacob still lay, unconscious, from his time apart from her. Then, she willfully refused to open her mouth as the other man reached the bar closer to her.

"Look, they want me to get you to eat." He said almost fearfully as he glanced around the warehouse.

She just stared at him, making no attempt to help him out.

He sighed. "I didn't exactly ask for this, okay? Trust me, if there was a way for me to help you guys out, I would, but I've kind of got my hands tied here."

She raised an eyebrow at the irony of his statement.

He leaned in closer. "Truth is, if I let you go, you'd still be stuck here. We're in an underwater facility."

Grace tried to keep the shock from appearing on her face. Underwater facility? Weren't those only in movies? Whose underwater facility? Why were they underwater? A thousand questions, each one more perplexing than the first ran through her mind.

She must have succeeded at keeping her surprise to herself because he looked at her incredulously. "Don't you understand? You couldn't get out if you wanted to!" He set the bar in her lap as he shook his head. "I wish I could help, but I just don't know how I could."

Putting all her faith in her mother and in the knowledge that wherever she was, she'd be fighting for them, Grace looked directly into the man's eyes.

"Have you got a name?" She asked after a moment.

He swallowed. "Uh...Steve."

Grace mulled this over. He didn't look like a Steve, and his eyes darted around the room as if he was hiding something. His name wasn't Steve – that much she could tell.

"Well, Steve, there might just be a way you can help us." She said after a moment.

Steve looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"Give me your hand." She said as she prepared to offer him her latest vision.

* * *

"Well, General, you're lucky," Dr. Steven Hamilton, Cassandra's temporary replacement at the SGC, said as he put his stethoscope over his neck at the conclusion of the exam which Mitchell had ordered. "It was just a touch of angina."

"Angina?" Jack asked, surprised.

Hamilton nodded. "Yep. Just a case of chest pain. No heart attack. But I would still like you to take it easy."

Jack harrumphed. "Easy?" He asked, sardonically. "My kids are missing, my daughter-in-law's in the hospital, and my wife–"

He trailed off, and the doctor nodded. "I know it's going to be hard. And honestly, I think it's a miracle that you _didn't_ have a heart attack, but if you want to stay even remotely healthy, you're going to have to cut back on the stress."

Jack opened his mouth to speak again as Daniel walked into the infirmary. "Jack, I just wanted to let you know–I've volunteered to go with the SEALs. Grace's psychiatrist called Cassandra after he found out that Grace had been kidnapped, and told her that it might be good for a friendly face to be present at the rescue."

Jack nodded as he hopped off the examination table. "Good idea. I'm going with you."

Hamilton opened his mouth as Daniel spoke. "Actually, Jack, Teal'c's been reassigned. He's coming with me."

Jack's eyes widened. "What? I thought I told Mitchell I wanted him–"

"Trust me, Mitchell heard you. But he thought that given the situation, Teal'c and I could be better doing this, and you'd be better taking over for Teal'c."

Jack's shoulders slumped forward. "What am I supposed to do when she wakes up and I'm with her instead of finding the kids? How am I supposed to tell her?"

"Jack, you trusted us for a number of years to watch after her when you couldn't be there. Don't you think you can do the same with your kids?"

The doctor watched the exchange with interest, and Jack noticed the careful observation. Finally, he turned back to his friend with a sigh. "All right. When do I leave?"

"Now." Daniel said, pressing a small button in his hand.

Within seconds, a white beam of light engulfed the Lieutenant General and he disappeared.

* * *

"You want me to do what?" Steve asked, staring at the thirteen-year-old.

"All you have to do is shoot the device." She assured.

"They don't even trust me with a gun!" He said, shaking his head. "There's no way I would know where that stupid thing is."

"It's not stupid!" Grace pressed, angrily. "At one time it was one of the tools my mother used to save the world!"

"I'm sorry. I really am," he said, looking at her apologetically. "But I can't do this."

She stared at him as if a revelation had suddenly dawned on her. "You're afraid!"

"You bet I'm afraid!" He said, nodding in agitation. "Do you know what these people are capable of?"

She shook her head as if trying to reject the idea that he could be afraid when he was so much older than she was. "Of course I know what they're capable of!" She snapped as harshly and yet quietly as she could. "They just tortured a five-year-old!"

He looked over at the barely waking young boy behind him, and sighed. "Look, I've got a wife and kids. If they–"

"We're someone else's kids." Grace interrupted. "We have a mom and dad too."

"Which is exactly why I can't help you." Steve said, apologetically. "If I make them angry, they'll do to my wife and kids what they're doing to you." His face was lined with pain as he shook his head. "I'm really sorry."

Before she could say another word, he hurried out of the room and left her alone with her waking brother.

Grace sighed. There went Plan A. Where was Plan B?


	45. Faith

The seconds felt like minutes, the minutes felt like hours, and the hours felt like days. If there was one thing outside of his experience at the SGC that would have inclined him to believe his wife's ramblings about the Theory of Relativity, it would have been these times when time seemed to stand still for him while the rest of the world worked at its frenzied pace.

Sam was out of surgery now. The surgeon had informed him that she'd awoken during surgery – just after nearly dying from an unexpected blood clot – and that they'd had to sedate her once again. It would probably be hours before she awoke, and even longer before she made any sense.

His whole body itched to be doing something other than waiting – waiting for his wife to awaken, waiting for Daniel and Teal'c to bring his children home safe, waiting for Cassandra and the twins to be strong enough to return home, waiting for confirmation from his body that he wasn't really suffering the effects of another heart attack. He wanted to be the first face that his kids saw after they were freed. He wanted to be the one who looked those bastards in the face when they realized that they weren't going to get away with hurting his family. He wanted to be judge, jury and executioner for each and every one who had ever tried to hurt his wife or his kids.

Instead, he was waiting.

He stood from the chair beside Sam's bed and walked over to the window. The blinds had been opened by some well-meaning nurse, and he looked out at the sunny day. The rest of the world seemed utterly oblivious to what was happening in here. The rest of the world was remarkably ignorant to the fact that the fabric of his life was unraveling before his very eyes and that he didn't know what to do to save it.

He looked over at his wife, still blissfully unaware of all that was going on around her. He walked back over and kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back," he whispered.

He needed to do something.

* * *

"You ever been on a submarine?" One of the SEALs asked Daniel as they drove to the boarding site.

"Believe it or not," Daniel said as he exchanged a small smile with Teal'c. "More than once."

Teal'c nodded as if to agree with him.

"I thought you guys were Air Force." Another SEAL said in surprise.

"Well, actually," Daniel corrected, gently. "I'm more of a consultant."

"Thought so." The first SEAL said with a proud grin.

"So, if you're not Air Force, what are you?" Another SEAL asked, curiously.

"I'm an archaeologist." He said, simply.

"What the hell would the Air Force want with an archaeologist?" One of the SEALs asked, shaking their heads in confusion.

Daniel managed a grin though his insides were far less carefree than he sounded. "Hey, don't ask that question too loudly. Someone might find out they don't really need me."

"What about you? You weren't wearing a uniform." Someone said, looking over at Teal'c.

The alien's stoic face did little to answer the question before Daniel piped up. "He's on an exchange program. His people wanted to get an inside view into the organization of the US Air Force, and he's been training with us for the past few years. Every so often, he goes back and helps his people organize themselves into a more effective force, and then, he comes back."

The SEALs nodded, though it was clear from the looks in their eyes that they each had more questions that they wanted to ask – such as why an archaeologist and a "foreign exchange student" had been paired with one of the most elite teams of service men that the United States had in their military arsenal.

"Look, what's the plan?" Daniel asked, looking up at the guys. "There are two kids in there. We can't go in there guns a-blazing."

"No offense," the SEAL commander said, looking back at Daniel as they neared the dock. "But you're just here to be a friendly face. Your job is just to stand behind my guys and do what I tell you when I tell you to do it. The worst thing you could do is try to be a hero."

"Daniel Jackson is a formidable warrior," Teal'c murmured, soberly.

"Thanks, Murray," Daniel said, turning a small smile of gratitude to his old friend before he returned his attention to the commander. "All I care about is the safety of those kids. If you can promise they won't get hurt, we'll do whatever you say."

The commander looked at Teal'c as if for confirmation, and the alien managed a subtle head nod in the direction of the leader. "They'll be safe." He promised, looking back at Daniel. "That's a promise we'd give our lives to keep."

* * *

The hospital chapel was as quiet and calm as the movies had always depicted, and it was strange to Jack that he'd decided to come here of all places. And then, it came to him. This was one of the "new" memories which he would always associate with Sam–faith.

"You wanna talk?"

Jack looked up, surprised to find that he was not alone. A graying man stood at the front of the room, almost expectantly. "I thought I was alone," Jack said, apologetically, as he turned to leave.

"You were on TV yesterday, weren't you?" The baritone voice questioned.

Jack paused, hesitantly, before he nodded. "Yeah."

The man seemed sympathetic, but also matter-of-fact. "Was your wife the woman who was shot at the White House?"

Once again, Jack nodded.

"My condolences." He said, moving over to a seat in the front. He motioned for Jack to sit beside him, which the old general decided against his better judgment to do. "Why'd you come here?"

"I guess I was looking for answers." Jack admitted, surprised at his own admission.

"Aren't we all?" The other man said with a modicum of amusement twinkling in his blue eyes. "What sorts of answers are you looking for?"

"The answers my wife seemed to find here, I guess." Jack said, looking around him. "About the reason bad things happen to good people, why someone as supposedly all-powerful and all-knowing as God's supposed to be would just turn a blind eye to everything that happens here."

"Is that what he does?" The other man asked, as if Jack was teaching him something.

"Isn't it?" Jack retorted. "I mean, take what's going on right now, for instance. My oldest son's wife is put in the hospital for what doctors thought was a stroke. My other two kids, 5 and 13 years old, are kidnapped. And that's not even the first time one of my kids has been kidnapped! And then, my wife's shot, and I nearly have a heart attack! I mean, where does it end?"

And that wasn't even counting his personal experience with false gods.

"And you think God abandoned you." The man said, simply.

"Well, He sure didn't go to bat for us, that's for sure." Jack returned, bitterly.

"May I ask you a question?" The other man asked after a moment.

"Sure." Jack said with a sigh.

"Did your daughter-in-law actually have a stroke?"

Jack was caught by surprise with the question. "Uh, no." He said, shaking his head.

"And your oldest son – the one who was kidnapped before now. Was he lost forever as you'd feared?"

"No," Jack said, shaking his head.

"Have the authorities given up on locating your youngest children?"

Again, Jack shook his head.

"And your wife has died?"

Unable to lie, Jack shook his head.

"And you had a heart attack after all?"

Jack hung his head before he shook his head once again.

"Perhaps," the other man began, softly, "what you perceived was God's indifference was actually His attempt to save you the heartache which might have been yours."

Tears blurred Jack's vision as he looked back up. "I don't think I can take much more," he admitted.

"Maybe you won't have to." The other man said with a charitable smile. "Go to her. Stay with her. In time, I'm sure your children will be returned to you unharmed."

Jack stood and walked toward the exit, his burden lightened somewhat by his paradigm shift. Then, he turned around. "Uh, sir?"

To his astonishment, he realized that he was, once again, alone in the room and guarding the only exit.


	46. Waiting

"So you're not goin' ter eat, eh?" The man with the British accent and the rotten teeth snapped as he peered at her.

The foul odor of his breath activated Grace's gag reflex, and she instinctively turned her face to the side with a grimace.

"I don't fink so," he said as he grabbed her chin and jerked her back to look at him. "The boss said three square meals, and that's what ye're goin' ter get."

He nodded to another man, apparently standing behind Grace, who grabbed the top of her head and slammed it against the metal backboard of her chair. The crack of her head against the metal coincided all too well with the sudden searing pain in her head, causing her to cry out. The man in front of her held her mouth open as he poured a brown, chunky liquid down Grace's throat.

It smelled, tasted, and felt the way vomit smelled, tasted and felt when it was on its way up, only this time it was on its way down.

She coughed, spewing bits of the liquid all over her captor, and his gaze hardened. "Again," he ordered, looking at the other man.

Her head was slammed back against the chair, this time causing stars to appear in Grace's vision as her mouth was forced open, and the vomit-like liquid was poured into her throat.

This time, her gag reflex which had gotten a more than adequate workout lately, kicked in, and she felt everything come back up. The man behind her, let go of her head fairly quickly, and she leaned over to the side, getting sick.

"Aw, come on!" The man behind her yelled before he cursed. "You know they're going to make us clean this up!"

The man with rotten teeth slapped Grace, and she felt as if her thoughts were smacked out of her brain with the force. "Next time we bring you somefink ter eat," his deep, gravelly voice said with venomous hatred. "We won't be so nice."

He turned to the other man. "Come on," he said, shaking his head. "We're done here."

Wearily, Grace watched them go through eyelids which grew heavier against her will. I...I have to get us home, she thought as she tried to fight the sleep which insisted on taking her prisoner. Just let me–

Her thought ended prematurely as she slumped forward with her chin falling to her chest, her mind suddenly still and quiet.

* * *

The sound of the ticking clock which signified each passing second began to dictate the pulsing in Sam's head as she slowly gained consciousness. What she would give for a loaded gun, she thought, forcing one eye open so she could cast a resentful eye on the offending clock.

She was instantly filled with remorse for her actions as a searing pain seemed to pierce her temple.

"Nail in the head feeling?" Her husband asked, sympathetically, as she felt his hand slip over one of hers protectively.

The relief that washed over her at the sound of his voice and the memories that accompanied his choice of words made her smile. "Jack," she murmured as she turned her head gently before opening her eyes to look at him.

"Hey there," he said with a faint smile that didn't fully reach his eyes. "You had us all a bit worried there for a little while."

"Yeah?" Sam asked with a faint smile of her own.

"T said you died for a minute. 'Course CNN didn't hear the "for a minute" part, so you'll probably have a few weird looks when you get up and about..."

The feeling of being ripped, prematurely, out of Grace's vision and out of her parents' protection stung her, and she closed her eyes with a heavy sigh.

"What?" Jack asked, softly.

She swallowed before she looked back at him. "The kids?" She managed around the lump in her throat.

He looked down at where his hand held hers, tightening his grip on her hand unconsciously. "They're being held in an underwater lab that belongs to Colson Industries." He whispered. "Danny and T took a SEAL team down to get them. I haven't heard–"

His voice trailed off as if he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

The pallor of his skin compared to hers and the lines on his face told her all she needed to know about why he wasn't the one leading the team. "The stress is getting to be too much for your heart," she said, simply. "That's why you're here."

"Mitchell insisted." Jack murmured as if Sam didn't know full well that he could be stubborn to a fault, and had often disregarded the orders of the officer in charge of the operation.

Though still weak from the anesthetics running through her veins and the major surgery she'd just undergone, she squeezed his hand, lightly. "Cassandra and the twins?" Sam asked, her voice hoarse from the hours of unconsciousness.

"Fine." He said, gruffly. "Being kept for observation in Colorado."

Sam nodded, slowly. "How about Nicole?"

"Vala left from DC to make sure she was safe while Daniel helped me find the kids." Jack said, numbly. "T stayed with you until Mitchell made me trade places with him."

He looked so broken that Sam wanted to cry. It seemed like only yesterday, she'd walked into the briefing room to see him standing so proud and self-assured, but it had been twenty years since then, and she could see age catch up with the Lieutenant General she loved with her whole heart.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, thickly.

He looked up, surprised. "You?" He asked, hoarsely, as if the tears which had sprung unbidden to his eyes were somehow affecting his speech. "What do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who should have taken better care of you. Better care of the kids. Better care of my heart."

Sam's vision blurred as she shook her head. "When–when I died," she began, softly. "I was with my parents. They told me to give Grace a vision, and I–" Her eyes burned with tears of shame as she looked down at the tiles of the hospital floor. "I fought them on it for so long that–" Her jaw tightened as she tried to stay strong. "I was pulled out of the vision before I could tell her everything I had to tell her, and now," she paused, losing control. "And now, I can't remember what I was going to tell her, and I couldn't even tell her if I did."

"That's not your fault," Jack said, catching her eyes with fiery determination shining through his tears.

"What happens if they don't come home?" Sam whispered as the defensive dam she'd used to shut out her emotion for so long burst.

"That's not an option," Jack whispered, thickly. "They're coming home."

"But if they don't?" She asked, unwilling to admit that her thoughts turned to what had happened between Jack and Sara so many years ago when they thought they had lost Charlie forever.

His hand slipped out of hers, and for a moment, she feared the rejection Sara had experienced, but instead of rejection, Sam felt her husband's weight on the bed as he moved from his seat at the side of her bed to the unoccupied space beside her on the bed. Careful not to jostle her injured shoulder, he lay on the bed beside her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. "Then, at least I have you." He finally whispered, his voice raw.


	47. Help

"Mommy!"

The sound of Jacob's sudden shriek woke Grace from the depths of sleep. "Jacob?" She asked, jerking forward automatically only to be effectively detained by her metal restraints.

Why was Jacob crying? When had she fallen asleep? Why was she confined to a metal chair with heavy-duty restraints? Where was she?

The questions flooded her mind, leaving her dizzy and confused.

She bit back a cry of pain as she looked down at her wrists, feeling the throbbing there and seeing the welts which had been aggravated by her sudden attempt to leave the chair. The reality of her situation came back to her suddenly. Jacob wasn't crying out for their mother because of some innocuous nightmare, and she couldn't hurry over to comfort him.

"Jacob, it's okay," she murmured, forcing herself to sound calm and collected.

"Where's Mommy?" He whimpered. "Everything hurts. I want Mommy."

"Mommy's not here right now, Jacob," Grace said, fighting back her own tears at the thought of how much she missed her mother as well. She would never argue her again–not over curfews, not over rules, not over anything! She just wanted to hear her mother's voice again. She just wanted to know what she was supposed to do next.

Jacob began crying softly.

"It's okay, Jacob, we're going to get out of here. We'll see Mommy soon." Grace said, praying that she wasn't lying to the innocent five-year-old.

"They," he began, hiccuping through his sobs. "They put n-needles in my...in my arm." He hiccuped loudly, and the sound reverberated through the empty warehouse. "Th-they put something on my head, and they–they..."

His teary words suddenly became garbled in Grace's ear, as if he was speaking in some foreign language which she didn't understand. Dizziness overwhelmed her, and through the fog of her mind, she managed to remember the vomit-flavored sleep-inducing cocktail her abductors had force-fed her. No wonder she'd fallen asleep in the middle of the crisis only to be woken by Jacob's cries for their mother–she'd been drugged. "Jacob," she slurred as she felt nausea bubble up within her.

Jacob was still crying, unconsoled by her words or distracted by her last attempt to catch his attention. She felt tears well up in her eyes as she began to cry with him for a moment. "Mom," she cried softly. "Mom, please...help me..."

"The alien's next," she heard a deep voice echo in the recesses of her mind as she finally succumbed to the waiting darkness.

* * *

"We're approaching the facility," one of the SEALs announced, causing the whole team, including Daniel and Teal'c to look up.

"Time to suit up," the commander said, looking at the team. His eye seemed to take longer when it came to watching Daniel and Teal'c, but the members of SG-1 merely followed the rest of the team to get in their wetsuits. It was time to get the O'Neill kids and take them home.

* * *

A crash jerked Jacob from his whimpering. "Grace?" He asked, even though he knew she wouldn't answer.

The men who had stuck needles in his arms and put him to sleep had taken Grace. And now, someone was shooting guns in the room where he was lying, chained to a bed without even his telekinetic powers to protect him.

"Your sister's not here." A deep voice whispered as two strong hands undid the leather restraints which had held him captive.

Jacob looked up in surprise at the man who had freed him. "Who are you?" He asked the dark-haired man with whiskers growing on his face. The man looked the way his dad did when he hadn't shaved in a few days.

"My name's Steve." He said, simply. He held up a machine that was broken with wires and things sticking out of it. "This was the machine that the scientists were using to keep you from doing your thing, okay? It's broken."

Jacob's eyes widened for a moment before he looked over at his sister's empty chair. Knitting his eyebrows together in concentration, he imagined shoving the chair, hard, against the wall.

Instantly, the chair did as it was commanded, causing a loud crash as it hit the opposite wall. Steve's eyes grew as wide as baseballs. "Wow, kid, when they said you had powers, they weren't kidding. Wow."

Jacob looked over at the other man, his eyes clouded with anger. "Where's my sister?" He growled, trying to sound as mean as he could.

"She, uh," the other man said, stepping away from him, scared. "I don't exactly know..."

Instantly, the chair that Jacob had been strapped to before he'd been taken to be the lab was shoved toward Steve.

"Hey, kid!" He cried in an attempt to stop Jacob. "I told you! I don't know where your sister is! But I'll help you find her!"

The chair stopped at his feet, and Jacob scrambled off the cot. He approached the cowering man, his eyes looking more like they belonged to a seasoned warrior than to an innocent five-year-old. "Let's go." He said as he turned, and with his telekinetic powers, ripped the door off its hinges.


	48. Deception

**Chapter 48: Deception**

**_A/N: Sorry, guys. I fail. But thank heavens the plot bunnies returned. I should have this finished by the end of the weekend. Hope you enjoy the next installment._  
**

"This is Colson research sub 43509." One of the SEALs announced into the Satellite phone as the sub waited outside the giant doors of the Colson Underwater Facility.

"Access code?" Came a computer generated voice.

"Alpha Charlie 934 Delta." He answered, reading the code from Colson's instructions.

"Access granted."

"Well, that was easy." The commander said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Too easy," Daniel agreed. "If this abduction was done by rogue scientists and militants on Colson's payroll, then even _his_ codes shouldn't work."

Teal'c nodded his own agreement.

"But we can't just sit out here and do nothing." The commander said finally. "We're going in."

Daniel inhaled as he turned to Teal'c. "Here we go," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

Jacob's eyes darted all around the hallway, watching for some sign of his sister. She had to be here somewhere. If only he was like his mommy and daddy–they could have done this by themselves. But they weren't here, and he was. And even though he was special, he wasn't special enough to have X-ray vision.

"Don't you two have, like, some kind of special connection? Can't you two just sense each other?" Steve asked as Jacob shoved open the door to a supply closet.

"What? Like the Jedi?" Jacob asked as he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Steve swallowed. "Uh, yeah...kinda like the Jedi."

"The Jedi aren't _real_," Jacob said as he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Maybe not, but she _is_ your sister, isn't she?" Steve returned quietly.

Jacob paused for a moment and then looked back up at Steve. "She was adopted."

"So?"

Jacob pursed his lips in thought for a moment before he returned his gaze to Steve. "Keep a look out, will ya?"

The older man nodded as Jacob closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_Grace? _He called in the depths of his mind. _Where are you, Grace?_

The silence in his mind was frightening. All he really wanted to do was wake up from this bad dream and climb into bed with his parents.

His thoughts of peaceful comfort from his parents were interrupted as an image of Daniel and Teal'c radioing for backup flooded his mind.

Jacob whipped around to Steve. "It's a-"

He fell silent as he faced the barrel of Steve's gun.

* * *

"Jack?"

The sound of his wife's voice jerked him back to reality from his thoughts, and he looked up at her with a bleary gaze. "Yeah?"

"There's something about this that isn't quite right." She said as she shook her head in confusion. She hated the way that her mind became cloudy when she was recovering from the effects of anesthesia. Her brow knit together in concern and concentration as she looked over at her husband. "Colson Industries...Colson Industries died with the Alec Colson securities scandal fifteen years ago. You know, when Brian Vogler doctored the books and took them to the SEC?" She paused for a moment. "Alec Colson lives off-world now. For his own safety!"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "But I just talked to him."

"Jack, you were _there_! _You_ were the one who told the President to let him go live out his days off-world. That sending him to one of our allies was our best chance of plugging the leak, so to speak." She insisted.

"No, I'm starting to remember that," Jack said, nodding. "But how is it that no one else seems to? And how is it that I didn't remember?"

Sam looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Honestly, if it wasn't for one of the technicians aboard the _George Hammond – _a guy who claimed to know you from your days on the _George Hammond_, I wouldn't even have thought of Alec Colson." Jack admitted as he pondered the last few hours. "But after that, I went to visit Colson, and he was very helpful."

"Helpful how?" Sam pressed as concern wrinkled her brow.

"He provided us with all the right security codes and everything so that the SEALs could get into the compound." Jack paused for a moment as he paled. "It's a trap, isn't it? It was too easy to get those codes, and it was too simple to come to the conclusion that someone at Colson Industries was behind it."

"But why didn't you remember that Colson Industries had been dismantled?" Sam continued. "_Something_ had to make it plausible to your mind."

"You mean, you think there's some other force behind this than just the NID?"

Sam tensed. "I think it's a definite possibility. Who was the technician?"

"Um, a...a Lieutenant..." Jack grimaced for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sam, I don't remember his name. And to be honest, I'm not sure I'd ever seen him before."

"Though that's not really surprising these days," Sam said honestly. She sighed. "What races have we come across who have been capable of camouflaging themselves to be like us, not just look like us?"

"Well, there was that guy that we thought was on SG-1, who really turned out to be an alien with tentacles and everything."

Sam grimaced at the memory. "Yes, Lieutenant Tyler."

"And then, there were those aliens who had the mimic devices." Jack continued.

Sam winced. "Another pleasant memory," she lied as she shook her head. "Let's talk about those two possibilities. Lieutenant Tyler was a completely fabricated identity. In fact, the Tok'ra synthesized a version of the Ree'ol chemical and sent Daniel undercover to Lord Yu. After that, Mitchell used the same chemical to go undercover in the Lucian Alliance. But in both cases, they had to be in close enough proximity to prick the object of the deception so that they could be affected by the chemical."

"The last time we used that chemical was fifteen years ago, Sam. Are you saying that someone couldn't have figured out a way to make the chemical aerosol in that time?" Jack asked as he shook his head.

"I'm not saying anything." She said, shaking her head. "I'm fully aware that fifteen years is more than enough time to make advancements in the field of science. But I am surprised that Cam and a team of Navy SEALs didn't figure out that the man you claimed to have seen couldn't possibly have been Alec Colson."

"What if it was, I don't know, contagious?" Jack offered.

Sam shook her head. "If _that _were the case, we wouldn't be having this discussion because, honestly, I wouldn't know that there was a problem."

"Unless the chemical contagion wore off." Jack countered.

Sam nodded slowly.

"So, I guess this means we're back at square one?"

She tensed. "I don't know. But what I do know is that if we don't call Mitchell soon, Daniel and Teal'c are going to find themselves in a lot of trouble."


	49. Secret Weapon

**Chapter 49: Secret Weapon**

"They seem to have a psychic link despite the fact that they're only related by adoption," Steve said as Jacob was shackled to a gurney next to his sister.

"Unbelievable." The scientist said, shaking his head. "And how did the alien manage to gather any information at all? I mean, she's been sedated ever since we brought her in."

"My guess is that even _she _doesn't know the extent of her powers." Steve said, shaking his head. "She touched me once and projected onto me a vision of what she was seeing in her mind. That's _significantly_ more than we'd even considered until now."

"I thought you were our _friend_!" Jacob shouted. His voice trembled with fear and anger.

"That's what you were _supposed_ to think." Steve said without looking over at the little boy. "We had to make it look like you could _actually_ get out of here and save your sister if we were going to find out what you two could to _together_."

"You're going to be sorry!" Jacob muttered as anger coursed through his veins. "My mommy and daddy will—"

"Your mommy is dead, kid." Steve said as he turned an eye to the five-year-old. "She was shot. At the White House."

Jacob's eyes filled with tears which he tried to blink away almost instantly. "You're lying," he whimpered. "She's looking for us. She's going to save us."

Steve turned to the man in the white lab coat to his right and nodded. The scientist turned on a television set in the corner of the room. Even with the sound muted, the sight of Jack diving in front of his wife as her face registered the pain of the bullet piercing her flesh made Jacob's tears come more swiftly as he began to whimper uncontrollably.

"And your dad's not exactly moving heaven and earth to find you right now." Steve said as he signaled for his aide to turn off the television. He stepped over to Jacob and leaned over him. "Your best shot at surviving this is to tell me why you are the way you are."

"I—I—I don't know," Jacob stammered as he struggled against the restraints.

"Are you an alien too?" Steve demanded.

"No! My mommy and my daddy—"

"Oh, yes, I forgot," Steve interrupted. "Your precious parents hold the answers to all of life's questions for you."

Jacob swallowed as he tried to focus on the things in the room that he could manipulate with his mind to free himself and his sister. But everything was so fuzzy again.

"Oh, you didn't think we only had one of those devices, did you?" Steve asked as his lips curled into a smug smile. "How could we? I mean, we knew you'd be missing your mommy, so we brought the next best thing—a machine that she helped build to stop people like you from using your powers."

Jacob couldn't stop the tears anymore. They kept slipping down his cheeks against his will. "My mommy could never—" He whimpered. "She would never want to hurt me. She loves me. She says I'm special."

"Oh, you're special, all right." Steve said with a vicious smirk. "In fact, you're our secret weapon."

* * *

"Sam, you've got to give me more than just a _possibility_ of infiltration!" Cam cried in exasperation over the speakerphone of Jack's cell.

"Cam, look at the files!" She protested in frustration. "Alec Colson was sent to the Beta site fifteen years ago in an attempt to keep him from disclosing the secrets of the Stargate program to the world. When he returned a few hours later, he discovered that his friend and colleague, Brian Vogler, had doctored the books and initiated legal proceedings against Colson. When Vogler was found dead, it became evident that Colson had to disappear, but he was too famous to to disappear on Earth. So we approached him with a deal—if he continued helping us, we would find him a place to live off-world."

"I remember the file, Sam. What I'm asking is how this automatically translates to some kind of chameleon army infiltrating the SGC and framing the CEO of a company, which according to you, doesn't even exist anymore."

Sam sighed as she pressed her fingers to her temples. "I don't know exactly what it all means. The anesthesia is affecting my mind, but—"

"The point is," Jack interrupted. "You need to call back that sub! If they're even in the right place, they're not going to be successful. We need more intel before we can even think about going in there."

"Do I have to remind you that these are _your_ children we're trying to save?" Cam protested.

Sam tensed. "Believe me, Cam, we know that. But we also know that if they go in guns a-blazing and they don't have the right intel, everyone's in trouble."

A sudden "ahem" from the corner of the room caught Sam's attention. Her doctor stood there with a disapproving look on her face.

"Look, Cam, Sam's doctor just showed up, so we've got to go, but just promise us that you'll call the sub back and look at the Colson file for confirmation. Then, you and Danny can talk about your own undercover missions and the chemical you used to do them, okay?"

Mitchell sighed. "Okay. I'll call you back when I get confirmation that Daniel and Teal'c are safe."

"Thanks." Jack said as he closed the cell phone.

"General Carter, you've just undergone major surgery." The doctor said as she shook her head in disapproval. "I don't care what else is going on—you just can't expect to be back up and running at your usual speed. You need to rest."

Sam sighed as a nurse entered the room with a needle in one hand. "I'd really rather you didn't give me that."

The nurse managed an apologetic smile before she pressed the needle into the IV. "I'm sorry, General, but the doctor's right. You need your rest."

Sam held up a hand. "Just...one second, okay?"

The nurse looked back at the doctor who merely nodded. Sam turned back to her husband. "Jack, go back to the Mountain. I'll call when I wake up."

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed his mouth. "I'll call Mark. He can't exactly do anything from where he is, but I'm sure he'd be willing to come and keep you company."

Sam swallowed before she nodded. "I'll call you when I wake up, okay?"

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'll call you when we find the kids, okay?"

Tears shone in her eyes as she nodded. "Race ya." She said as she attempted to make her husband smile. The look of supreme sadness on Jack's face made her choke on the beginnings of her laughter, and instead she merely sighed. "Just—bring them home safely."

He nodded. "As long as you follow the doctor's orders and rest."

Sam turned to the nurse and nodded. The nurse almost instantly pressed the syringe into the IV. Within moments, Sam's mind began to fog up again and her eyelids began to grow heavier.

There was something that haunted her thoughts as she slipped into a much-needed rest. There were still more than a few things which didn't add up. And they twirled around in her mind in a dizzying frenzy as if to disrupt whatever rest she might otherwise have been able to obtain.

* * *

"Walter, patch me through to the submarine." Mitchell ordered as he came down the stairs from the briefing room into the control room.

The Chief Master Sergeant nodded as he returned to his console.

Mitchell waiting to hear the SEAL commander's voice for a few seconds before he turned back to Walter. "Why isn't it working?"

"No one's answering, sir." Walter announced.

"Looks like we're too late." Mitchell sighed.


	50. The Trap

**Chapter 50: The Trap**

Daniel had learned a long time ago to distrust an easy victory. There was just something not right about the fact that they had been able to slip virtually undetected into a secret underwater research facility for one of the largest aeronautics corporations in the world.

He stopped as he realized the conflict in what he'd just considered. Aeronautics was planes and jets. This under water facility was accessible only by submarine. No wonder he felt like they were being set up.

"Teal'c!" Daniel whispered as he gently tapped his friend.

The silent Jaffa turned a raised eyebrow to him, interested in what he had to say.

"Why does an aeronautics company have an under _water_ research facility?"

The Jaffa's eyes widened as the SEALs began to take fire. In an instant, the small group was surrounded by paramilitary personnel. A man with short brown hair, a crooked nose, and dark brown eyes walked through the paramilitary barricade and approached Daniel and Teal'c. "I've been waiting for you two." He said simply. "My name is Steve."

Daniel shared a look with Teal'c before he shook his head. "Nope. I don't think it is. You see, Steve is a name that I just—I just don't think fits you. Nope. Not a Steve."

The man smiled which only served to make Daniel a little more uneasy. "So you caught me. I'm using a nom de plume. Something I learned from you, actually, Dr. Jackson. Or rather, something I learned from what you _should _have done when you started publishing papers about the pyramids being landing pads for alien spaceships."

The SEALs looked at the archaeologist in surprise. "Alien spaceships?" One asked in surprise.

Daniel just shrugged as he forced a lighthearted grin to his lips. "What can I say? I had a wayward youth."

Steve turned his attention to Teal'c. "Ah, Teal'c. Or should I say, the shol'va."

"It has been many years since I was last called shol'va." He said with a tone that was eerily calm for the Jaffa.

He looked back at Daniel who shrugged. "Great memories, huh?"

"Indeed," the Jaffa said, nodding.

"Shut up, you two!" Steve cried as he hit Daniel upside the head with the side of his heavy, metal flashlight.

Daniel reeled to the side from the force of the blow, though he didn't lose consciousness.

He returned his attention to Steve just as the leader reached down and retrieved a handful of vials from Teal'c's jacket pocket. "Tretonin. The only thing that's kept you alive for quite a while, I hear." He placed the vials in his own pocket. "You don't mind if I keep these as a sample, do you? In the name of scientific advancement, of course."

The SEAL commander turned a hard gaze to their conqueror. "Is that why you took those kids? For scientific advancement?"

"What else would I take them for?" Steve asked simply. "I mean, between the miracle child of the galaxy and the alien who was adopted by his parents, there's a lot that could be learned from them."

"You have a five-year-old and a thirteen-year-old in custody!" The commander contended. "It doesn't matter what you think they can do—you abducted them from their home. From their family."

"And what do you think they'll do to us if they get the chance?" Steve spat bitterly. "You don't know what their kind have done to us! You don't know what their kind can do to us!"

"Their kind?" Daniel asked with a skeptical eyebrow.

"You can't _possibly_ have forgotten about the Ori already, Dr. Jackson." Steve said as he turned back to the archaeologist.

"Those kids are not Ori." Daniel cried instantly. "They're the children of two very important and influential Air Force generals who will stop at nothing to bring them home. Trust me. You want to send them home as much as we want to take them home."

Steve's face was hard. "I don't think so." He turned to one of the paramilitary men at his side. "It's time to show America what could happen if we were to let these freaks live."

Daniel swallowed as he and the rest of the team were shoved down the corridor.

* * *

"Jack? What are you doing here?" Cam Mitchell asked as he walked from the briefing room to his office.

The retired Air Force general turned with a small sigh. "Following orders."

Mitchell's brow furrowed in confusion. "Orders? Who gives you orders?"

Jack managed a small smile. "Sam."

"How's she doing?"

Jack inhaled slowly. "As well as can be expected." A rueful smile stole onto his lips as he thought about his wife and her interminable work ethic. "She, of course, wants to pretend like she didn't just go through major surgery and get back to work, but her doctor had other plans."

Cam couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "That's Sam for you. Though, from the stories I've heard around here, she picked it up from you."

Jack smiled in amusement as Cam motioned for him to sit down.

"How can I help you?" He asked from across the desk.

"Actually, I"m here to help you. Fill you in on what little Sam and I pieced together about what's going on."

"There's more than just that theory that some camouflaged alien trying to take your kids?" Cam asked, surprised.

"The theory isn't _actually_ that camouflaged aliens are behind this abduction," Jack sighed. "The theory is that, like you and Daniel, someone managed to infiltrate the SGC by using an aerosol form of the Ree'al chemical."

"Right. Sorry." Mitchell sighed. "So, you had something else to tell me."

Jack nodded. "But before we get there, is there any word from Daniel's team?"

Mitchell shook his head.

"And plans for a rescue?"

"Until we know more, I can't in good conscience send a team to the same coordinates." Mitchell said, soberly. "But then, you know that even better than I do."

Jack sighed before he nodded. "Have you tried to get in touch with the Colson off-world?"

Mitchell nodded. "Apparently, he went on a mission a few months ago to study some ancient device, but he never returned. Colonel Anderson at the Alpha site said that they've made many attempts to find him, but—"

"Still no luck?"

Mitchell shook his head. "Still no luck."

Jack thought for a moment, his brow furrowed with the recent revelation. "Then, I guess they wouldn't really _need_ to use the camouflage agent. They could have made him a goa'uld, brainwashed him—anything, I suppose."

"But Sam's right. The only thing that makes sense is the camouflage. It's the only way any of us would have accepted that Colson Industries was still around."

"Not necessarily." Jack said as he shook his head. "If the Trust is somehow involved in this like I think they are, then all they had to do was change the name of Hammel Technologies to Colson Industries."

"Or just buy a few of Colson Industries' subsidiaries and not make any changes." Mitchell said as he brightened somewhat with the possibility.

Jack turned to the other general somewhat confused. "What?"

Mitchell stood and walked over to the door. "Walt—"

"Yes, sir." The Chief Master Sergeant asked as he appeared in the doorway.

Mitchell jumped. "You—you need to stop doing that!"

Jack tried to hide a chuckle at the other general's expense before he sobered. "Walter, we need everything you can find about Hammer Technologies and their connections to Colson Industries and its subsidiaries."

"Yes, sir." Walter said with a stiff nod.

"And Walter?"

"Yes, sir," He said as he paused and turned back.

"Look into how Colson got back into the business world, will you?"

"Yes, sir."

Mitchell watched Walter leave before he turned back to the retired general. "You know, he's not really under your command anymore, Jack."

Jack smirked slightly. "Sorry. Old habits, and all that..."

Cam chuckled. "You're lucky I'm a fan."

O'Neill shrugged easily.

"So, while we're waiting for that, we're going to—" Mitchell began.

"Find a Plan B." Jack said as he stood.

"A Plan B? For what?" Mitchell asked, confused.

"Getting Teal'c and Daniel." He said as he looked over at the other general. "_And_, God willing, my kids."


	51. Hope

"_Mommy!"_

The memory of the scream that ripped out of her five-year-old's throat jerked Sam out of her dreamless sleep and back to reality with a jolt of adrenaline.

"It's okay," a voice soothed. "You're okay."

Sam blinked several times to try and clear the cloudiness of the sedative from her vision. "Vala?" She asked as she turned to find her dark-haired friend sitting in the chair beside her. "I thought Jack said he was sending Mark."

"Oh, he did." Vala said with a grin. "But Nicole and I tagged along."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. "You brought Nicole?"

"You don't think I was just going to leave her in Colorado, did you?"

"No," Sam said, shaking her head gently. "No, I guess I didn't." How, she hated these drugs that were keeping her from her usually high capacity for logic.

"Nor was I going to just sit around and wait for Daniel to return." Vala continued.

Sam looked over at her friend with a pained expression on her face. "Have you heard anything yet?"

Vala shook her head. "Not yet. But I'm hopeful."

Sam nodded. She knew all-too-well the toll that came from sitting at home and waiting while being unable to do anything to help. "Well, Jack's there. If nothing else, he and Mitchell will commandeer a sub and go down to rescue them single-handedly."

Vala brightened instantly at the thought. "And they _would_, too."

With eyes more accustomed to the fluorescent lighting, Sam looked around the room. "Where exactly _is_ my older brother?"

"He said something about "old times" and took Nicole for ice cream in the cafeteria a few minutes ago." She said with a small smile. "They should be back soon."

Sam's worried brow softened into a relaxed smile. "Old times," she said with a knowing chuckle. "I'll bet."

"What was he talking about?" Vala asked.

"Mark's daughter, Kate, just got married last year to a computer tech wizard who got a job working for Microsoft, so they moved to Seattle after the wedding. After that happened, Mark started coming to visit us a bit more often." Her smile became somewhat rueful. "He claims he's just got more business here in Colorado Springs, but I think he misses Katie and is trying to ease his loneliness by spending time with Grace and Jacob."

Vala nodded. "Well, Nicole just loves him. And being that she doesn't have any actual aunts or uncles, I figured it couldn't hurt to let her get ice cream with him."

Sam nodded in agreement as the door opened and Nicole bounded into the room. "Hi, Mommy." She greeted as she ran to offer her mother one of the two bowls of ice cream in her hands. "We got you some ice cream!"

"Did you?" Vala asked, accepting the gift. "Did you say thank you to Mr. Carter?"

Mark chuckled as he closed the door. "Yes, she did. She has impeccable manners, Mrs. Jackson."

"Please," Vala said, looking over at him. "It's Vala."

"Vala." He said, nodding.

"So, you're charming little girls again, are you?" Sam asked with a hoarse chuckle.

"You know me," he said with a light shrug as he turned his attention to his sister. "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Sam asked with a slight grimace. "I could be better." Then, she managed a thin smile. "Of course, I could also be a lot worse."

Mark nodded as he sat down.

"Thanks for all the help," Sam said, turning her attention back to her brother as Vala's attention became consumed by her chatty five-year-old.

"What help?" Mark asked with derision. "I'm a CPA, not a ghostbuster. What on Earth could I do to help you do what you do everyday?"

Sam laughed softly. "Truthfully, even the ghostbusters couldn't help us do what we do. _And _I don't really do this everyday. I do it part-time, on the side, if they need me."

"From what Jack told me, you're about five minutes away from winning a Nobel prize in physics _and_ the Air Force promoted you to Brigadier General." Mark said as he shook his head in disagreement. "They wouldn't do that if they didn't need you."

"Jack is exaggerating," Sam said with a light blush. "He does that a lot when it comes to my influence as an astrophysicist."

"Name one quote-unquote _famous_ astrophysicist who has _ever_ done _anything_ close to what you do, or used to do, everyday." Mark asked with an earnest look.

"There are a _lot_ more famous astrophysicists without whom I couldn't have done any of what I may or may not have done." She countered.

"I mean, the ones alive today, Sam." Mark sighed with a bit of exasperation.

"Well, there's Mike Brown and Neil deGrasse Tyson who have changed the way we define a planet. I mean, they redefined the way we look at the solar system." She replied with ease.

"Um, yeah, how about we choose physicists who _aren't_ getting hate mail from third graders." Mark said with a shake of his head.

She couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. "What I mean is that what we did may be important, but theories about wormhole physics aren't going to mean much if the world doesn't know where those theories came from. And honestly once they know, I doubt they'll even look at me as a candidate for a Nobel prize. I mean, all I've done in the history of physics is connect our understanding of physics with a greater, larger understanding of the universe. Whatever I write down in defense of wormhole physics is entirely someone else's idea. Just written in a form that our scientists can relate to."

Mark shook his head. "And you wonder why people want to kill you."

Sam's brow furrowed.

"You're too perfect. You're too smart. You're too humble. You're too nice. You're too precise." He rattled off. "Need I go on?"

"You're going to use the same argument Dad would give us anytime we came home from high school with a complaint against one of our classmates? That they're all just jealous?" She asked skeptically.

"Hard not to be." He said with a thin smile. "And, as the older brother who could never hold a candle to your brilliance, I should know."

"That's not true, and you know it." Sam defended. "You were smart too. You could run a lemonade stand like no one else I've ever met. You had employees and payroll taxes, for cryin' out loud! Me? I think my _one_ attempt at a lemonade stand made about fifty cents. Because Mom took pity on me and gave me a fifty cent tip."

Mark chuckled. "Yeah."

"Look, I know that this new reality must be overwhelming for you," she said as the laughter subsided. "It was for me the first time I heard about it." She inhaled. "But I also know that without people like you making it all worthwhile, we wouldn't be doing what we're doing."

Mark offered a small nod in concession. "Yes. Those of us who need to be saved are quite the commodity, aren't we?"

Sam shook her head as she leaned her head back against the pillow.

"Do you need something? Should I call a doctor for more pain meds?"

Sam shook her head as she closed her eyes against the light. "No." She sighed heavily. "I just wish the phone would ring, and Jack would tell me that it's all over."

* * *

Grace had never felt the way she felt right now. Physically, she was practically paralyzed, but mentally...

She knew the precise location of every sentient being in the vicinity and their approximate location to her. Beside her was Jacob. Between them was a medical researcher and a biochemist, each alternating between Jacob and Grace in their studies. In the room behind her was Steve and his merry band of bad guys.

The room ahead was being filled with people, but she couldn't discern who they were. At least not until she had time to reach out mentally and gently reach each individual mind.

This shouldn't be happening, she thought to herself. I shouldn't have this ability—not with the Anti-Prior device active. It was designed to interrupt "higher" brain frequencies.

_Who said this was a higher brain frequency?_ A voice floated into her subconscious. _What if this is just the usage of a greater percentage of your brain matter for one task?_

Like teaching her brain to have multiple uses for the same neural pathway? She wondered.

_Exactly. It's not higher at all. It's just a refocus._

And completely alien. She thought in resignation.

_That's not a bad thing. Just—different._

It made sense in a weird way. Perhaps that was why she couldn't move right now. She'd exerted all her power to this "map" of their prison.

This could work, she realized with the sudden hope of deliverance.


	52. Plan B

"We are _not_ having this conversation," Cameron Mitchell announced as he shook his head with vehement protest.

"You know as well as I do that I'm the only logical choice for this operation," Jack said with a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"You almost had a heart attack, Jack!" The younger general cried. "Your wife is alive, but in critical condition, your daughter-in-law is in the hospital too, and your kids—"

"My kids are most likely with Daniel and Teal'c." Jack interrupted. He took a breath before he looked at Mitchell with a strangely calm and sober eye. "Mitchell, you said that you couldn't, in all good conscience, send another team to the coordinates that we sent Daniel and Teal'c to. I'm not another team. I'm retired."

"You're a retired three-star, Jack." Mitchell said with another forceful shake of his head. "I don't care _how_ retired you are, the reporters won't look past the _three-star_ part."

"Reporters never heard about top-secret missions when I was active-duty, and I don't intend to change that now."

"Reporters, politicians, _the Joint Chiefs,_" Mitchell continued as his voice grew louder and louder. "It doesn't _matter_ who sees the report. The point is that sending a retired three-star _alone_ to do a job that I wouldn't even send my own teams to do won't cut it."

"Are you afraid they'll down-size the SGC and call me back to active duty?" Jack asked somewhat facetiously.

"This is serious, Jack." Mitchell said. His eyes indicated how unamused he was by the idea. "You're suggesting going down to this underwater facility in a sub, somehow getting into the facility undetected, and shutting down whatever is interfering with the Asgard beam on the _George Hammond_. Even for the fittest of soldiers—"

Jack raised an eyebrow at the younger man's implication.

"And the healthiest of men, this would be a difficult mission." Mitchell finished. "For cryin' out loud, Jack, they took down a Navy SEAL team in under five minutes!"

"Because we had bad intel!" Jack reminded him. "We won't make the mistake of trusting the intel this time."

"We don't even have a clue about how you could disrupt whatever is creating the interference!"

"That's what Lee and his team are for." Jack countered. "That's what the phone is for—to call my wife in Washington."

"She's supposed to be playing dead, not helping us with this investigation." Mitchell pointed out.

Jack sighed. "Do you have a better idea?"

Mitchell opened his mouth and then closed it again. "No."

"So, you'll call Bill?"

Mitchell nodded. "Yeah. And I'll also call Reynolds and have his team standing by."

Jack's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What?" Mitchell asked as he gathered up his papers. "You didn't think I was _actually_ going to let you go, did you?"

"Actually, I kind of thought—" Jack began.

"Regardless of the other reasons I should or should not be doing this, I _refuse_ to be the one to tell Sam that you went on a mission this soon after a cardiac episode." Mitchell interrupted. "I may be not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I'm not _that_ stupid."

* * *

"So, what's the plan?" Daniel asked as he turned to Teal'c and the Navy SEAL commander.

"Get out of here and complete the mission," the commander said simply.

"Okay." Daniel said with a slight nod. "But how are we going to do that?"

"Undoubtedly, they'll send someone in here. We'll take them out before they can lock us in, and we'll go from there."

Daniel inhaled sharply. "Yeah, how about a plan that won't get us or the kids killed?"

"We don't even know for sure that the kids are here, Dr. Jackson." Someone piped up from the corner of the room.

"Exactly my point," Daniel said with an accentuated motion toward the SEAL who had just spoken. "We need to know a lot more about the situation than we know right now."

"And you think they're just going to walk in here and hand over the information we need?" The other SEAL asked with an eyebrow raised in skepticism.

"No, of course not, but I'd like to think that we haven't exhausted all of our resources." Daniel said with a brief shake of his head.

The commander looked at Daniel with a sober look in his eye. "Do you have a better plan?"

"I'd just like to look at all the alternatives before we choose that plan, that's all." He said with a noncommittal tone.

"Dr. Jackson, we're Navy SEALs." One of the other men said, soberly. "We don't suggest something unless we're almost positive that it's going to work. And we don't quit until it does."

Daniel turned to the other man with a small sigh. "And I respect that. I really do. But you have to admit, you're a little out of your element here. I mean, this is what I've done everyday for the last fifteen years."

"Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c said simply.

"If you knew what you were doing in this scenario, you wouldn't have called us to help." The commander reminded him. "And I'm still in command of this mission. It's my call."

Daniel sighed heavily. "You're right, of course. I just mean—"

"I know what you mean." The commander interrupted. "Now, unless you have a viable alternative, this is what we're doing, okay?"

Daniel nodded in resignation. "Okay."

* * *

She wanted to reach out to Jacob and ease his fears—to let him know that everything was going to be okay. Then again, he was five years old and more likely to blow her cover before she was ready to take action.

She reached out with her mind. This time, however, she hoped to make note of the mechanical and electrical objects in the room instead of the people.

She tried to almost imagine the people she knew were there and what items they might have on their persons in order to test her theory.

The doctor beside her was wearing probably wearing a watch of some kind. She poked and prodded the information to which her brain had access before she managed to discover that it was an expensive digital watch, a gift from the doctor's wife on their last anniversary.

Her mind almost burst with the realization that she couldn't have known that from just connecting herself to the object itself. She had actually found what she was looking for in the recesses of the doctor's mind.

She let herself "fall" back into the doctor's mind. Did they have another Anti-Prior device here like they'd had in the other room?

The doctor turned his attention to Jacob, and she felt a sudden wave of relief. Confused at the source of such a strong emotion, she prodded at the thoughts which had come before the feeling.

Images of a circular device like her mother had shown her in the vision of her work at Stargate Command placed at the base of Jacob's gurney appeared in her thoughts.

Was it that easy? She asked herself as she retreated from the doctor's mind as carefully as possible.

When she had successfully extracted herself from within his thoughts, she contemplated the experience for a moment in an effort to determine just what it meant. She could rifle through another person's thoughts and memories at will.

I wonder what else can I do, she pondered as she reached out to the doctor's mind again.


	53. Motive

"Well, I guess, it could be any number of things," Dr. Bill Lee stammered as he glanced over at the imposing Air Force Generals in his lab. "I mean, if it's just that you can't lock onto a beacon of some kind, that's a simple jamming frequency like we installed near the Gate a number of years ago when Ba'al stole—"

"The Gate," Jack interrupted. "I remember the incident very clearly." He moved his hands in a circular motion that indicated his impatience for the man to move on.

"Honestly," Lee said as he looked back at the monitor. He scratched the top of his head nervously. "It could be that, and it could be something considerably more sophisticated."

"Such as?" Mitchell pressed.

The balding man pressed a hand to his forehead as he tried to think of all the other possibilities. "Uh, well..."

"You know what?" Jack interrupted as he turned to leave. "You keep working on this. I have a few calls to make."

Lee swallowed as he reached up and took off his glasses for a moment. He replaced them as he cleared his throat. "General O'Neill?"

Jack, who was only at the doorway, turned back. "Yes?"

"I was sorry to hear about General Carter." He said with watery eyes. "She, uh, she was a special woman, and—well, she'll be missed around here."

Jack simply nodded before he continued out the door. He walked down the corridor to Daniel's lab. He'd spent so many hours here with the rest of the team. It wasn't entirely bizarre to be here without the archaeologist. He, Sam and Teal'c had spent plenty of time in this room mourning the loss of the friend on several occasions.

But he wasn't mourning now. He was looking for the isolation that the lab belonging to arguably one of the most boring person in the Mountain could provide. A twinge of regret at the teasing Jack put the archaeologist through even in the privacy of his mind while Daniel was trying to do what he could not—to save his kids—gave Jack pause as he reached Daniel's desk.

He swallowed for a moment. He couldn't let Vala and Nicole lose Daniel, not when the reason for his potential imprisonment was Jack's inability to protect his family—again.

He shook the feelings away. He was getting soft in his old age. If he'd been twenty years younger, these feelings wouldn't have surfaced in the middle of a scenario like this. Then again, if he'd been twenty years younger, he wouldn't have had a family at all, and he wouldn't have been in this mess.

He exhaled as he reached for Daniel's phone and dialed Mark's number.

"This is Mark," his brother-in-law greeted somewhat flatly.

"Mark, it's Jack. I need to talk to my wife."

"She just fell asleep, Jack. Is it important?"

Jack sighed. His wife needed her rest. He'd already brought the problem to other scientists and engineers. He shouldn't have to have Mark wake her. "I'm afraid so," he finally breathed with a nod.

"Any word about the kids?"

"Not yet. Hopefully, Sam can help us get some more information." Jack said as he wished that Mark would just hand the phone over to Sam. He hated that he had to explain his every move to the civilian who didn't understand all the nuances of the operation like Sam would.

"Okay." Mark said after a slight pause. "I'll try to get her up."

He couldn't help but tap nervously on his thigh as he waited for Sam to awaken. This was almost more unnerving than waiting for some news from Daniel and the team of SEALS. With Sam's close call in the operating room, there was always the chance that she had simply—

"Jack?" The sound of his wife's hoarse voice was sweeter than the sound of a hundred violins playing the sweetest love song.

"Sam," he breathed with an audible sigh of relief.

"Mark had them give me some more morphine," Sam said with a good deal of frustration. "It messes with my head and puts me right to sleep."

"Well, he's just trying to look out for you," Jack said with a small smile at his wife's feisty attitude. He'd thought she'd been opinionated when he'd mistakenly assumed that Sam Carter was Samuel Carter instead of Samantha Carter at their first meeting, but she had only grown more uncompromising as the years had passed. At least in some things.

"Yeah, well, I wish he'd wait until after we get the kids back." She said with clear disappointment in her voice. "Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing." He admitted. "But we have a plan in the works, and we need your help."

Sam managed a throaty chuckle. "I'm lying in a hospital bed halfway across the country from you. What can I do to help?"

"Hey, you've always been the brains of this operation," he teased gently. "I've always been the brawn."

She chuckled softly at his joke.

He smiled when he managed to envision the smile that had come to her lips. Then, he sobered as he remembered why he had called. "You tell me how to do what I want to do, and we might just get the kids back by dinner, okay?"

There was silence on the other end of the line before Sam cleared her throat. "What do you want to do?"

* * *

Jack strolled back into Dr. Lee's lab twenty minutes later. "I've got something." He said as he thrust a legal pad toward the doctor.

"You, sir?" Lee asked as he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

He shrugged. "I called McKay. I asked for help."

"Rodney McKay?" Lee asked, even more stunned.

"I asked him to try and think the way Sam would think." He said as he pointed to the pad. "These are the notes he gave me."

"Isn't Dr. McKay still on Atlantis?" Lee asked, unable to get past the idea that the general had approached the arrogant physicist/engineer.

"I called in a few markers, okay?" Jack's tone was edgy. "Can you do something with this or do I need to ask Atlantis to use the valuable ZPM energy to ship it back here before my kids are killed too?"

The scientist swallowed. "Oh, this—this makes perfect—perfect s-sense. We'll get it taken care of in—in no time." He stammered nervously.

"Good." Jack said with a curt nod. "I'll leave you and your team to it then."

* * *

Grace turned her attention to the man behind the observation glass. He called himself Steve and he'd made it seem like she could trust him when she'd first seen him. And, she, who had vowed never to trust another human being whose motives she couldn't entirely pin down, had broken her vow and against her better judgment brought him into her confidence.

And now it seemed that he was the one who was giving the orders.

It still freaked her out that she was able to enter someone's mind as if she had the keys to the locked door of their consciousness. After all, she'd been overwhelmed with the ability to predict the future. She pushed her fears out of her mind. It was time to concentrate on the mission at hand.

Reading someone else's mind was as simple as going to a filing cabinet and pulling out a file that had been placed alphabetically in its protective case or pulling up the folders within a person's computer files and selecting the documents which applied to the subject she was researching. It was frightening how easily one could infiltrate another person's mind.

Even knowing what this person had already done to her and to her brother, she struggled with the idea of trespassing on his most private territory, a territory which he'd probably never dreamed that anyone could invade so easily.

Why hadn't she thought about this with the doctor? She wondered to herself for a moment.

The answer came almost instantly. She'd never intended to find out any of his personal information. He'd been a means to an end—the eyes by which she was able to see the world for a few moments.

Steve, however, was something altogether different. Without searching his mind, she could never be entirely sure of what the plan was or who was actually running it. She couldn't ever close the book on the rescue and return to a semi-normal life.

* * *

_The image of a woman lying in a hospital bed came unbidden to the man's mind as a memory began to unfold before Grace's view. The woman had several tubes and wires connected to her, each corresponding to a specific machine that beeped and whirled regularly. A nurse walked into the room and jotted down a few notes as she studied the numbers from all of the machines._

"_Excuse me," he interrupted._

"_Yes, Mr. Brown?" The nurse asked as she turned her attention to him._

"_I was wondering if there's been any news about what this is." He said as he motioned back to the woman behind him. "My wife's been sick for three days, and she's been unconscious for two."_

_The nurse sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. We're still running tests. But it looks like the CDC has become aware of some new virus that is spreading across the world faster than we can fight it."_

"_What on Earth would cause a global pandemic like this?" He asked as he ran his hands through his hair in worry._

"_Honestly, I'm not sure." She said with a sad shake of her head. "Your wife was just one of about a dozen cases that came through here on the same day. And we've had a hundred more since she came in. We're overworked and understaffed, but we're doing everything we can."_

_The man nodded with a heavy sigh._

"_How are you feeling?" The nurse asked as she pulled out a pen light and began to examine the man's eyes._

"_I'm fine." He said as he batted away her attempts to examine him. "Just a little tired."_

_As if on cue, he coughed the same rumbling cough that had caused him enough concern to bring her into the emergency room in the first place._

"_I don't think you're as fine as you think." The nurse said soberly. "Sit here while I get the paperwork. We need to get you examined and admitted as soon as possible."_

"_I'm not leaving her." He insisted._

"_I'm not asking you to." She assured as she placed a gentle hand on his arm. "But you won't do anyone any favors if you refuse treatment."_

_He sighed before he nodded heavily. "As long as I can stay in here, you can do anything you want to me."_

* * *

Grace pulled out of the memory for a moment. Was Steve remembering something about his wife? Had she survived the pandemic like he had? Or was this the source of the anger and contempt he felt for people who had psychic capabilities?

Grace dived back into the man's memories. She needed to know more.

* * *

"_I don't understand it," he said with a vigorous shake of his head. "Didn't anyone else notice that everyone seemed to just get better spontaneously?"_

"_Jenkins, you're being paranoid." A man in a gray suit with a striped tie who sat behind a massive cherry wood desk said as he shook his head. "Practically everyone got sick around the same time so if the disease had run its natural course, it makes sense that—"_

"_If the disease had run its natural course, we would all be dead!" The man, who was apparently really named Jenkins, had interrupted._

_The other man sighed heavily. "I know how much you lost when you lost Sandy." He said with a great deal of empathy in his voice. "But I also know that there's a scientific explanation for all of this. It's not the paranormal mumbo-jumbo you've started peddling around the office."_

"_The CDC called it a severe influenza. But that's impossible. The flu has never killed people in such numbers." Jenkins said with a small note of resignation coloring his tone. "I'm telling you, Baker, someone's trying to cover something up. I don't know if it's biological warfare or what, but I'm going to find out."_

"_Would you just forget this stuff?" Baker asked as he sat up and stared into the face of his friend. "You've got a lot of work to do if you're going to keep up with the DoD contract we just nailed last week."_

_Jenkins sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What does the DoD want with a genetic research facility?"_

"_I don't ask questions." Baker said as he leaned back in his chair. "I just follow orders and remain grateful that I have a paycheck."_

* * *

Grace's mind was overwhelmed with the information. He must have been talking about the flu pandemic which had raged the world a few years before she'd been adopted by her parents. She'd only been a couple of years old, if she'd even been on Earth at all at that time, and so she didn't recall anything about the incident.

But she'd been a victim of it nonetheless. She'd had to endure more presentations about covering your mouth when you cough or sneeze, washing your hands after you wiped your nose, and keeping your beverages to yourself than she cared to count.

It had spooked the rest of the world, but she had a feeling that Jenkins had been right. All signs pointed to some sort of alien virus transmitted by the members of one of the SG teams: a cover-up by the top-level government officials, a wide effect that spread almost instantly, and a cure which had appeared practically out of nowhere.

Steve, or rather Jenkins, had appeared to have some sort of intolerance for people with psychic abilities. He seemed to want to study Grace and her brother for some anti-psychic defense. Perhaps he had unearthed some evidence that a psychic race had been behind the pandemic which had killed his wife. Or perhaps he was as crazy as Baker had thought. Either way, it seemed that she now knew what the motive was behind her kidnapping.

She also knew that an escape wouldn't be the end of this particular brand of genocide. No, there was much more at stake than her life or her brother's life. People like her, people whom her mother had termed "evolutionary miracles," would be hunted and killed one by one if Grace was right.

And she had the sick feeling that she was.


	54. The Plan

**Chapter 54: The Plan**

Teal'c sat with his back to the wall, his legs crossed, and his eyes closed. It was not often productive to sit and meditate in a situation where he found himself as a hostage, but something had compelled him to return to a deep state of meditation, and if possible, come as close to Kel'noreem as he could without a symbiote. Perhaps it was the knowledge that without his next dose of tretonin, he would begin to weaken without the strength that came from a state of relaxation.

As he sat, he began to focus his attention on isolating one sound from the din around him. One voice. One breath. One movement.

Within moments, it was as if the room around him had been silenced, and he reached out with the deepest parts of his spirit to the world outside the one in which they sat. He'd been always fascinated with the idea that one molecule affected another, and that fascination had only grown when Daniel Jackson had ascended to another plane of existence and begun to affect things on a cosmic scale. For now, Teal'c wanted to simply reach out with the little cosmic energy which he possessed in comparison and hear the universe's answer.

Teal'c? Is that you?

The Jaffa's focus was broken instantly. As he opened his eyes, he saw Daniel's concerned study of his face. "You okay?"

"Did you not hear a voice, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel's brow furrowed. "There are a lot of people talking, T. I'm afraid I can't say I didn't, but I don't think I heard what _you_ heard."

Teal'c inhaled deeply as he tried to review the experience in his mind. The voice hadn't been a voice. It was more of a thought. A familiar thought even.

But how could that be? He'd never addressed himself in such a way before. In fact, the thought had seemed hesitant and nervous, like a Jaffa treading upon the sacred ground at the temple of Dakara.

"Teal'c?" Daniel pressed.

"There was a voice—a thought—in my mind as I attempted to achieve a state of Kel'noreem," he explained. "It was familiar, and yet it was foreign. Afraid and yet relieved."

"A thought," Daniel asked as if requesting clarification.

Teal'c nodded.

"See if you can feel it again," Daniel suggested.

Teal'c nodded his agreement. As he closed his eyes and relaxed his body, he carefully retraced his spiritual steps. First, he tried to focus on one voice, one breath, one movement. Then as the rest of the world dimmed, he reached out to another corner of the universe. There, he found the thought again.

It _is_ you! Oh, Teal'c, I was hoping I'd find you! Where are you?

Teal'c felt his concentration slip for a moment as the rush of the noise threatened to return.

"No, Teal'c, it's okay. I'm right here," Daniel's soft voice soothed. "Think about the voice. Or the thought. Whose is it? What is it? Where is it?"

Focusing on Daniel's voice, Teal'c let the rest of the din fade away. Then, he returned to the corner of the universe that he'd nearly left.

Teal'c, aren't you glad to see me? It's me, Grace! I'm here! I've found you. Don't worry about a thing, Teal'c. I'm going to get you guys out of here, okay? Come and find us, Teal'c. They're trying to hurt us. Come and find us.

The image of a fortified room came to his mind. In the room was a gurney upon which Grace lay and a chair in which Jacob was strapped. There was a group of scientists milling about the two children with notebooks in hand. They stopped to make observations in their notes about what they were seeing on the various monitors around the room.

Please, Teal'c, the plea came again. Come and find us.

Teal'c's eyes snapped open, and he turned to Daniel Jackson. "It was Grace O'Neill," he said in a low voice. "The thought, the voice. It came from Grace O'Neill."

* * *

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this, Jack," Mitchell said as he shook his head.

"You mean go fishing?" Jack asked as he carefully packed the items he would need for his "fishing trip."

"You know what I mean," Mitchell said as he shook his head.

Jack turned back to the younger man. "Sam and Dr. Lee assure me that this will be harmless to any marine life. It will probably render a few motorized boats useless, but it will also mean that we should be able to beam in and out of the underwater facility. The plan's perfect, actually."

"Oh, I agree with you on that," Cam said honestly. "It's the fact that you're going to do it that has me a little concerned."

Jack sighed. "I'm a retired man who has spent a good deal of his life fishing. Name _one_ other person on this base who would be less conspicuous than I would be, and I'll let them go. No questions asked."

Mitchell groaned. "Fine. Fine. You're the best man for the job. That doesn't mean that I have to like it."

Jack managed a thin smile. "Okay, so I'm going to pretend like I'm putting down some traps. Inside one of the traps will be the waterproof miniature-naquadah-reactor-powered electromagnetic pulse generator that Dr. Lee and his team just finished. After five minutes, my motorized boat should become useless which will prove that the generator worked. At that time, I will turn my cell phone back on and call you. You will then order the _George Hammond_ to beam me up, I will meet the team you have assigned to this mission aboard the _George Hammond_, and I will go with them to find my kids, Daniel and Teal'c."

"It's a good plan," Mitchell acknowledged. "Except that you're staying on the _George Hammond_."

"I don't think so," Jack said as he shook his head. "I've tried not to be involved in this, but I can't just sit back and wait for your team to bring them back. I have to be there. I have to be one of the first people to see them."

Mitchell groaned. "You've gotten stubborn in your old age, Jack."

"Maybe so," he admitted. "But this time, I can't afford not to be."

Mitchell sighed. "Fine. But if Sam—or anyone else—wants to have my head for sending you out into the field, I'm sending them your direction!"

Jack nodded. "Sounds fair."

Mitchell looked at Jack's pack. "So...are you ready for this?"

Jack nodded. "You better believe it."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay and the short post. Am wrapping up the story as we speak. As the cliche goes, time flies when you're having fun!_


	55. And So It Begins

**Chapter 55: And So It Begins...**

"Grace is the voice reaching out through the cosmos to you?" Daniel asked somewhat skeptically.

Teal'c nodded affirmatively. "I am certain, Daniel Jackson."

"How?"

"I do not know, Daniel Jackson. I know only that she assured me that she would aid us in our escape," Teal'c said as he stood.

"But Jacob's the one with the skills to be able to do that," Daniel countered in confusion.

"Perhaps they have discovered a way in which they can unite their considerable talents," Teal'c suggested as he closed his eyes again.

"You're going back to Kel'noreem?" Daniel seemed surprised by his friend's sudden determination to meditate.

"Perhaps if I reach a state of Kel'noreem, I will be able to communicate more deeply with Grace O'Neill," he murmured as he began the process of relaxing his mind and body.

"That's—that's—that's good," Daniel said with a nod.

A moment passed before Teal'c opened his eyes again.

"No luck, huh?" Daniel asked with a small sigh.

"Daniel?" Teal'c's voice sounded different, and Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Teal'c?" He asked hesitantly.

"No, it's me, Grace." The Jaffa shook his head vehemently. "Where are you?"

"I was hoping you could tell us that," Daniel said, still unsure whether he was comprehending what was going on or not.

"Well, we're in an underwater research facility, but if Teal'c knows that, then you probably do too."

Daniel felt a shudder grow down his spine. Now he knew what everyone else had gone through while he'd lain in the hospital bed in Ma'chello's dying body. This was weird—even for him.

"Grace, we need to get out of here so we can help you and Jacob, okay?" Daniel said seriously. "Do you have any ideas how we can do that?"

Teal'c's lips pursed and his brow furrowed for a moment before he turned around and observed the room. Once he saw the door, he turned back to Daniel. "They're regular locks, right?"

"I assume so," Daniel said with a shrug. "Why?"

"Hang tight for a minute. I should be able to get you out of here in a few minutes."

Daniel watched in amazement as Teal'c closed his eyes, returned to a state of Kel'noreem, and then opened his eyes again. "Was I successful in contacting Grace O'Neill?" He asked simply.

Daniel nodded vigorously. "I think you could say that."

"What is the plan, Daniel Jackson?" The Jaffa asked, ignoring the odd looks from the SEALS who surrounded them.

"Uh, wait for Grace to do her stuff, I guess," Daniel said with a shrug. Then, he looked back at the SEALS. "Something we can help you with?"

The men all stared at the two civilians for a moment before the commander spoke. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but it sure isn't standard operating procedure."

"In our line of work," Daniel began slowly. "It rarely is."

* * *

It was warmer in Georgia than it had been in Colorado and D.C., but Jack hardly noticed. His mind was on his mission. With his olive green baseball cap hooding his eyes, he eyed the beach with the precision of a soldier. Though the weather was warm, the sky was overcast, and there were few people on the beach. The few who were there weren't swimming, but rather collecting sea shells and other inexpensive beach memorabilia.

He spied a shanty about thirty yards ahead of him with a sign overhead that read BAIT & TACKLE. It had been thrown together out of rusted aluminum and weathered, gray wood, and Jack doubted if it would survive a strong wind, let alone a hurricane. In fact, it seemed to have been haphazardly put together from bits and pieces left over from the last hurricane which had hit the area. It was less a building and more a shed, and from what Jack could see, it seemed to have a window for easy selling.

However, his interests didn't lie in the shack or in its cheap, do-it-yourself drive-up window, but rather in the rusty, motorized boat that sat beside it. It was in terrible shape, but it would serve his purposes well.

As he walked up to the window, he saw an old, leather-skinned woman sitting inside the hut with a hat covering her face and her legs propped up on a table. He knocked on the wood and startled her out of her nap.

"Whatcha want?" She asked somewhat grumpily.

"How much for the boat?" He asked, motioning with his head toward the rust bucket beside the hut.

"You wanna rent the boat?" She asked incredulously.

He shook his head. "I want to buy it."

Her eyes widened before she shook her head. "Sorry, sir. Boat's not for sale."

Jack looked around the beach as if he was making a casual inquiry. "I'll give you fifteen hundred for her. Cash."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Fifteen hundred?"

"You haul it out with your truck, and I'll throw in an extra hundred," he said as he turned back to face her.

"Sixteen hundred dollars cash?" She repeated.

He nodded.

She pondered the offer for a few moments before she looked out the window at the boat. Then, she looked back at him. "Worth at least twenty-five hundred," she said, coolly.

Jack doubted it was worth even the sixteen hundred he'd offered for it, but he mulled the offer over for a moment. "I'll give you two thousand, and you tow it out for me. Final offer."

The woman pursed her lips for a moment before she reached out a hand. "You got yourself a deal."

* * *

Grace hoped she could deliver on the promise she'd just made to Daniel. She was still getting used to these new powers, and she wasn't sure what their limitations were. After all, even Superman had his Kryptonite and couldn't see through lead. Maybe her newfound abilities extended only to theoretically being able to use her body's natural electromagnetic field and channel it towards magnetically moving metal objects or unlocking metal door locks.

She sighed internally. She'd listened to far too many of her mother's scientific discussions if she, an eighth-grader who had flunked almost every science class she'd ever taken, was able to scientifically explain what was happening in her body to this extent.

She reached out with her mind and visualized moving the metal parts in such a way that she was able to unlock the door. Just as she heard the final click, she felt her connection with the metal shatter violently. Her mind was shoved back into her brain with such force that she felt the cosmic world around her darken.

* * *

The engine sputtered a few times before it died, and Jack turned back in satisfaction. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. He turned the phone on, and sighed in gratitude. Things were finally starting to look up. He dialed the phone number for Mitchell's personal line and waited.

"General Mitchell's office," Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman greeted.

"Walter, it's O'Neill. Tell him it worked, and that I'm ready to be picked up."

* * *

_A/N: Two chapters just because I thought I'd reward such patience with another chapter. Also, I felt kind of bad giving you just the one short chapter._


	56. The Rescue

**Chapter 56: The Rescue**

Daniel walked over to the door and leaned his ear close to the lock. A prominent click alerted him to the completion of Grace's task, and he turned the knob slowly. The door gave way just as all the lights in the complex shut off.

"That was not part of the plan," Daniel murmured to Teal'c.

"Perhaps it is a sign that we are not alone," Teal'c said as they closed the door once again.

Daniel nodded affirmatively before he turned to the commander. "I can't explain how, but as you can see, we've been released."

"You can't explain how because it's classified?" The commander asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"I can't explain how because I'm not even sure I know how we've been released," Daniel admitted honestly.

The other man nodded before he turned to the other SEALs. "They may have captured us once, but that's not going to happen again. Is that understood?"

The group nodded in agreement.

"We came here to do a mission, and if there's one things that we do, it's complete our missions. I want us to split up. Henderson, you're with me. Livingston, you're with Young." The commander turned to Daniel. "You're with the big guy, Murray."

Daniel nodded.

"You guys look for the kids. Henderson and I will look for a way outta here, understood?"

Another curt nod came from the men.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Daniel asked as the men prepared to move out.

"What?"

"Like weapons?" The archaeologist reminded him. "They took our guns when they captured us."

The commander opened his mouth to speak as a bright light appeared in the room. The SEALs turned their heads to shield their eyes from the light. When it subsided, they turned back to where the light had been only to find General Jack O'Neill and General Cameron Mitchell standing in full mission gear surrounded by a small cache of weapons.

"Sorry I'm late, boys," Jack greeted as he waved at Daniel and Teal'c. "I had a few things to pick up on my way."

* * *

Jacob's head hurt. That machine made it hard for him to think, and he didn't like it.

Tears welled up in his eyes. It wasn't possible that his mommy had made this machine. She had always told him that his gift was something to be proud of. Yes, he had to be careful with it, but that wasn't really any different from how he had to be careful with his toys or his movies.

He closed his eyes. The image of his mommy falling to the ground with his daddy landing on top of her kept playing over and over in his mind.

What did it mean to be dead? He wondered. When people were dead, they went to heaven, didn't they? Was his mommy in heaven? Where was heaven? He'd seen enough TV to know that when someone was dead, it meant that they didn't come back again. Was heaven like this place?

It made him sad to think that he might never see his mommy again.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and the buzzing in his mind went away. The people in the white lab coats dashed around him like the kids at school when they played dodgeball. They were worried about something, he could tell.

The last time the buzzing stopped in his head, he was able to use his powers again. He imagined the metal bracelets holding him in his seat breaking apart. Almost the moment the thought passed through his mind, he had broken free.

The scientists looked at him in fear and began backing away.

He imagined shoving the various machines surrounding him and his sister at the mass, and before he realized it, the metal carts were crashing into the scientists.

He hadn't meant for the scientists to get hurt—no matter what they had done to him and Grace.

He was losing control of his powers, and it scared him.

* * *

A crash caught Jack's attention as they paroled the corridor. He gave a halt sign, and both Daniel and Teal'c followed suit. He silently directed them to surround the door. Then, he carefully turned the door handle and opened it.

Jacob looked up as he heard the sound of the doorknob turning. His mind quickly filled in who the unexpected guests might be—more thugs who were trying to hurt him and his sister.

He raised his hands. He'd run out of things to send flying in the intruders' direction, but he could at least knock their heads together like they did in the movies. He inhaled deeply as the door opened.

In stepped a man with funny looking glasses over his eyes. He was holding a gun which he held pointed at the center of the room—at Jacob.

Jacob closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

* * *

As Jack stepped in the room, he surveyed the room quickly. There, in the center of it was Jacob. Relief washed over him for a moment before he realized that the five-year-old was raising his hands in self-defense.

"Wait, Jake, it's me, Dad!" He cried as he braced himself for whatever telekinetic fate his son had in store for him.

* * *

Just as his imagination began to imagine bashing this bad guy's head against the metal door, he heard the familiar voice.

"Wait, Jake, it's me, Dad!"

Jacob's eyes opened instantly as the man in front of him put the gun down and took his funny glasses off. He approached Jacob and fell down in front of him. He wrapped his arms around him as Jacob started to cry. "Daddy! They tried to hurt me. Grace tried to stop them," he hiccuped as he tightened his hold on his dad. "Oh, Daddy, I just want to go home!"

* * *

Daniel entered the room after Jack, grateful that they'd at least found one of the O'Neill children. He was surprised to see half a dozen scientists lying unconscious on the ground in a tangled mess of wires and electrodes. Given the fact that Jacob had nearly injured his own father upon his arrival in the room, Daniel assumed that the damage had been done by the kindergartner.

The thought that this five-year-old had injured and possibly killed these scientists made Daniel ill. After all, he had his own five-year-old, and it would have devastated him to think that her innocence had been lost so soon.

He turned his face from the view only to find Grace's limp body lying on a gurney. She was strapped onto the gurney with leather hand restraints. "T," he murmured as he pulled off his own night vision goggles. "You wanna give me a hand here?"

Teal'c nodded and headed over, but not before Jack heard their exchange. "What is it, Daniel?"The retired general asked.

He felt panic well up in his chest as he faced the challenge of answering the man's question. Grace's pulse was erratic and faint, and if they didn't get her out of there soon, there was a real chance that she could—

"We have found Grace O'Neill," Teal'c said, interrupting Daniel's thoughts. "However, she needs medical attention."

Jack picked up the little boy in front of him, and hurried over to his daughter's side. Biting back a strangled cry, he reached for his radio. "Mitchell, we need you to beam us up now. We've found the kids, but they need medical attention. I repeat, we found the kids, but they need medical attention!"

There was no answer as Teal'c took Jacob from Jack. The retired general bent over his daughter's body and stroked her hair. "Come on, angel, you can fight this thing."

As he kissed her forehead, a white light engulfed the party, and they found themselves in the infirmary aboard the _George Hammond_.


	57. Separated

**Chapter 57: Separated**

"Darling, don't touch that. Why don't you sit here with mummy and read a book?"

The sound of Vala and Nicole's exchange slowly woke Sam from her morphine-induced sleep. She'd had the strangest dream that had something to do with the Invisible Man trying to kill her, and Jack giving her the formula for cold fusion.

"Sam?" Her brother's voice grew closer as she stirred. She opened one eye cautiously, and found him studying her closely. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my brain turned to mush and my mouth turned to cotton," she said with a small groan.

"Water?" Mark reached for the water even as he asked the question.

Sam nodded, and within moments, Mark had maneuvered the straw to her lips. She took a few sips before she turned away from the cup. "Is there any news," she asked as she searched her brother's face for the answer.

He shook his head. "Not yet. But Jack said this would probably take a few hours."

Sam nodded slowly. "I know. I just hoped—"

Mark patted her hand gently. "I know," he said softly.

She managed a thin smile as her cell phone vibrated. Mark reached for the phone and looked at the caller ID. "It's Jack," he said as he handed the phone to her.

Her heart began to pound in worry as she opened the phone and put it to her ear. "Jack?"

"Sam, it's me," he greeted. His tone was tired, and she could hear the worry in his voice.

"Jack, what's wrong?" She began to tremble at the thought of losing either or both of her children.

"I'm—I'm not sure," he admitted softly.

"Did you find the kids?"

"Yes, we did," he said as his tone lightened somewhat. "I'm here with the kids at the SGC. Jacob's received a checkup, and he checked out. He's asleep in one of the VIP rooms."

"What about Grace?" Sam asked as her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

"Grace is—well," Jack's voice cracked. "She's not doing as well. The doctors can't figure out what's going on. Her heart's beating, her brain's active—they said it's something in between a deep meditation or sleep state and a coma."

Her breath hitched. "Jack, I have to be there. I can't stay here," she whispered.

"I know," he said with a small sigh. "I told Dr. Hamilton that, and he said he'd call your doctor there, and find out if you could be transferred to the SGC. Hopefully, we'll all be back here in the next couple of days."

Sam felt her eyes well up in tears as she sighed both in relief and worry. "Have Jacob call me when he's awake," she whispered as she tried to keep her emotions in check. "I have to—I have to hear his voice."

"I will," Jack promised. "I almost had him call earlier, but he was in such a fit when we found him that Dr. Hamilton prescribed a small sedative for him to help him sleep."

"Do they know who did this yet?" Sam whispered with a trembling voice.

"By the time the rest of the team had secured the facility, all they'd found were a few injured scientists and a missing submarine. It seems that anyone who wasn't in the room with Jacob when the electromagnetic pulse hit hightailed it out of there," Jack explained.

Sam nodded sadly. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she sat up with the force of her realization. "Jack, you don't mean that—that Jacob hurt those scientists!"

She grimaced at the pain that came from jostling her shoulder and the throbbing in her head that began at her sudden movement. Mark and Vala both helped her to settle back against the pillows as Jack sighed.

"When Danny and T and I found him, he was about ready to ram me against a wall with his powers. I don't think he was trying to hurt anyone necessarily. It sounds like he was just so scared that his imagination and his powers were in fight-or-flight mode."

Sam's heart grew heavy for her sweet kindergartner. "He shouldn't have had to feel that way, Jack," she whispered as her lip quivered with emotion.

Jack was silent for a moment. "How are you doing?"

She closed her eyes before she inhaled. "I'm fine. The morphine's making me sleepy, but I'll be okay once they let me off of it. How are you?"

"I'm fine," he said with a distracted tone.

"Are you sure?"

Jack sighed softly. "I just keep watching him, Sam. I can't stop. I mean, when they took him in for that check-up, I was so glad that he was small enough that I could stay with him." He swallowed. "Now, I just want Grace to wake up and you to come and be here with us, and for all of us to be home together. That's the only thing I need right now."

"Me too," she whispered softly.

Jack was quiet for a moment. "You need your rest, Sam. I'll call when Jacob wakes up tomorrow morning, okay?"

She sniffled. "Hold him and give him a kiss for me?"

"I will," he promised.

"I love you, Jack O'Neill."

"I love you too, Samantha Carter," he said with a tired tone.

As she hung up the phone, she felt sobs well up in her throat. She blinked away a few tears from her eyes. How her heart ached to be home!

* * *

Grace stood in front of the suburban home and wondered how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was unlocking the door for Daniel and Teal'c and getting slammed back into the confines of her physical body. Now, she stood in front of a yellow house with white shutters. In front of the windows were small flower beds with dozens of yellow, pink, and white flowers blossoming, and in the backyard was the most magnificent weeping willow tree she'd ever seen.

It was spring here—wherever "here" was. The birds were chirping cheerfully, and for a few moments, Grace was mesmerized by her surroundings. Then, she saw the name on the mailbox beside her. Carter.

She took a hesitant step toward the front door, and as she reached for the handle, the door opened. Inside the house stood the woman from her recent dreams. Her clear blue eyes were sober though her lips were turned upward in a small smile. She was a tall woman, dressed in a white cotton dress that seemed to match the serenity of her suburban surroundings. Her long blond hair curled slightly at the tip and softly framed her delicate features.

"I can't say that I'm terribly surprised to see you," the woman admitted. Her eyes showed resignation and sorrow as she opened the door more widely and stepped to the side. "Come in, Grace. It seems we have a lot to talk about."

Grace studied the woman for a moment before she nodded. "Yes, Grandma, I suppose we do."


	58. Family

**Chapter 58: Family**

"What happened down there?" Grace asked as she and her grandparents settled in the living room on soft, plush couches that felt as real to Grace as anything on her normal plane of existence.

"You mean, why are you here?" Jacob asked from where he sat beside his wife.

She nodded. "One minute, I'm about to help save myself, and then next I'm shoved back into my body, and—"

"Then, you find yourself here," Elizabeth finished.

Grace nodded. "You can understand why I'm confused. I mean, this all seems to be part of a bigger plan. First, it seems that you've arranged for me to be on Earth instead of some other part of the galaxy. Then, it seems that you're the woman giving me the visions I've been getting. And now, I show up here in what I assume is something akin to heaven, and the first people I see are you two!"

Elizabeth exchanged a sober look with her husband before she opened her mouth. "When I first came here, I discovered that I could see things differently than I could when I was alive—on Earth."

Grace looked at her grandparents with confusion as Elizabeth continued her story.

"I could see what was happening in the present, I could see what had happened to make the present what it had become, and I could see what the choices made in the present would lead to," she said softly. "Your mother would explain it by talking about alternate realities—where even one single choice creates a whole new world. For me, those worlds were suddenly converging so that I could see them all. I mean, I can only follow a thread of choices to a possible outcome. Anything more than that belongs to God, I suppose."

"God," Grace said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Elizabeth said with a nod. "I know your mother struggled with faith after I died, and your father's struggled with it since Charlie died, but that doesn't mean that there isn't a higher power out there. Unfortunately, while they were both struggling with faith, they began fighting beings who claimed to be gods. And then, they met beings who had remarkable powers over the elements—ascended beings. Then, one among them became an ascended being. There's more than that, Grace. Ascension and enlightenment are steps to heaven. They aren't heaven itself."

"And I'm in the _real _heaven?" Grace's tone was skeptical.

"You're not here for a sermon. You're here for an explanation, and I'm trying my best to give you one." She inhaled before she continued. "When I looked at how my family was hurting after I died, I tried to look for some way that I could help them. For your grandfather and your uncle, Mark, one of the best things I could do was put your mother in a place where she could hear about the Tok'ra. With Selmak's help, they would be able to rebuild their relationship before it was your grandfather's time to come here."

Jacob offered his wife a tender smile as he reached for her hand and squeezed it in gratitude. "And I'll never be able to fully thank you for that."

She offered a tender smile back to him before she returned her attention to her granddaughter. "I knew your uncle could make his own way—even if it wasn't exactly the way I wanted it to go. Your grandfather would be all right once he received a Tok'ra, but your mother—she was a different story. She took my death so hard."

Elizabeth stood and retrieved a small photograph from the mantle. She handed the photograph to Grace. It was a picture of a small girl with brilliantly blond hair and a wide gap-toothed grin on her face that seemed to radiate all the joy that had ever existed on the planet.

"Your mother felt everything so deeply when she was a child. Her joy was exquisite and her pain was devastating. If she was hurt, she was shattered. If she was happy, she was on cloud nine. After my death, she was caught in the middle between her father and her brother. She learned to be tough and buried herself in her work. When I saw this, I hoped it would be a temporary thing—that was before I really knew what I could see from up here," she admitted somewhat sheepishly. "But after about ten years of getting tougher and tougher and tougher, I was concerned."

"So you arranged for someone to hear about the Stargate program who would actually be interested in it, and then helped someone think about my dad as the first mission commander and all that?" Grace asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "I wouldn't dream of changing anyone's ability to make decisions, but I certainly can make certain suggestions to them." She sighed. "Anyway, I knew almost from the moment your parents met that they would be wonderful companions for each other. But I also knew that because of their pain, it would also take a good deal of time before they were ready and willing to make a commitment to each other. I also knew that they would be uniquely able to care for a young woman like you."

"You mean, a freaky alien psychic?"

"Oh, no, Grace," Elizabeth said with a tender smile. "You're so much more than that."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Your parents were right," Jacob explained. "You are Nirrti's unknown and unexpected success in her search for a hok'tar."

"Are you kidding?" Grace asked as her jaw dropped.

"No, Grace, he's not," Elizabeth said soberly. "That's why you're here."

* * *

"You mean, you're going to do that—beam-me-up-Scotty thing this soon after getting shot?" Mark asked incredulously.

"I don't really have many other options," Sam reminded him. "I'm not strong enough for a long flight, and I can't exactly go out the front door because of security concerns." She gave him a small, grateful smile. "I know you're concerned about this, but I've done it so many times I can't even count. And I'm just fine. In fact, I've been beamed up under significantly worse circumstances—like before I've been treated for a recent gunshot wound."

Mark sighed. "Okay, okay," he said with a nod. "I'll trust you. I just—this whole thing has me a little bit on edge. First I find out that you've been shot and that your kids are missing and all that, and then I find out that you've made a living fighting aliens and living a life that is unfathomably like science-fiction!"

Sam offered him a wan smile. She was getting tired, and she just wanted to go home. She wanted this whole nightmare to end.

Thankfully, Mark seemed to see the weariness grow in her eyes because he put up his hands in surrender. "We'll talk about this later. For now, let's just get you to your kids."

She teared up in gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered as he helped her get into the wheelchair.

Almost the moment she'd been situated, a bright light enveloped her, and she disappeared.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Mark said with a shake of his head.

* * *

Sam and her wheelchair were almost instantly beamed back down to the SGC though there were a few shocked expressions at her appearance. She was almost grateful that there had been no inquiries into what was going on and that she'd been allowed to continue her journey so quickly. Now, she sat in the hallway outside the infirmary, and she had the undesirable task to decide which child she would see first, Grace or Jacob.

She prepared to stand though she wasn't sure she was entirely ready to be out of bed yet. After all, she'd nearly died yesterday. She was lucky to be here at all.

A strong hand pressed down on her uninjured shoulder from behind. "Stay," Jack murmured warmly.

She turned and offered him a small smile. "Hi," she greeted as she reached up with her uninjured hand to touch his. "Where's Jacob?"

"He's in with Grace. I went to call Mark and see if you were being transferred, but by the time I called, you were on board the _George Hammond_ so I came back. Lucky for me, I was on my way when you showed up."

"It's good to be back," she said with a sigh as Jack began pushing her toward the infirmary entrance.

"It's good to have you back," Jack said softly.

It was clear that soldier mode which had served Jack well since this had begun in earnest was slipping, and that Sam had come just in time to try and carry some of the emotional burden he'd been carrying for so long by himself.

As Jack drove her wheelchair into Grace's room, Jacob ran toward his mother with his arms extended toward her. "Mommy!"

His cries broke her heart as Jack held out a hand to stop the young boy. "Hey, kiddo. Slow down," he began to admonish calmly.

Tears were running down the boy's face as he approached Sam. He turned his bright eyes toward her as his little lip quivered. "They told me I'd never see you again, Mommy," he whispered. "They told me that you were dead."

Sam's heart broke, and Jack helped Jacob to climb carefully onto her lap where he wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and buried his face in her uninjured shoulder. His soft sobs mingled with her own tears of sorrow and relief.

"Oh, Jacob," she whispered after a moment. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again either. Oh, I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Mommy," he hiccuped. "I don't ever want to go away like that again."

"Oh, baby, I'll do my best to make sure you never do," she promised.

Jack put his hand on her shoulder. "We both will," he added thickly.


	59. Waking

**Chapter 59: Waking**

"You never answered my question," Grace said as she looked at her grandparents. "Why am I here? Am I dead?"

Jacob shook his head. "Honestly, we don't know. We weren't surprised to see you, but we also weren't expecting you."

"That doesn't help," Grace said as she shook her head. "What sent me here?"

"Your father sent an electromagnetic pulse to knock out the power in the facility in which you were being held," Elizabeth explained. "He had no way of knowing that at the same time he was doing that, you would be concentrating your body's natural electromagnetic field in an attempt to help Daniel and Teal'c escape their prison and save you. The pulse sent your energy back to where it had originated with such force that you came here."

"So, I'm dead," Grace finished.

"Not yet at least," Jacob Carter said as he shook his head. "Right now, the doctors are trying to figure out what's going on."

"Do you at least have a theory?" Grace asked, turning to her grandmother.

"As a matter of fact," she said with a small sigh. "I might."

"What is it?"

Elizabeth tensed. "I think you might be here to forget."

Grace's eyes widened. "To forget? To forget what?"

"To forget what you can do," she said softly. "To forget what you had to go through."

Grace rocked back in disbelief. "Why?" She finally managed.

"Grace, someday you're going to have a very important role in the galaxy, and your gifts are going to be very helpful. But right now, you need to have a normal childhood. You need to get back to worrying about school and about spending time with your friends."

Grace was silent for a moment as her grandmother finished. The silence was thick and heavy, and Grace wondered for a moment what it would be like to stay here and never go back. Her work would be done, but she would miss her family. Even with their lives in this chaos, she would miss picking up the pieces and starting again with them.

Finally, she inhaled and looked back up at her grandparents. "Okay. If that's what you think I'm here for, let's get it over with. Let's forget."

* * *

Sam's eyes grew heavy. She hated the fact that her pain medication was interfering her from being as present in this reunion with her family as she would prefer.

"You should get some rest," Jack murmured as he walked up and sat beside her.

"I don't want to rest," Sam sighed. She rested her cheek on her husband's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist, careful not to jostle her injured arm. "I've done plenty of resting for the last few days."

He kissed her temple tenderly. "I know. You hate to feel like you're not in the center of the action."

"I hate the fact that I'm here worried about falling asleep because of my pain meds while my daughter is lying here—completely unresponsive. I shouldn't be falling asleep. Not when these could be the last moments of my daughter's—"

"Don't say it," Jack interrupted. "She's going to be fine. She's an O'Neill, and O'Neills are fighters."

Sam managed a weary smile as she nodded. "So I've heard." She looked around the room expectantly. "Where's Jacob?"

"T took him to the mess for some lunch. He was a little hesitant about leaving my side, but I think it will be a good thing for him to get back a little bit of a routine," Jack explained.

Sam nodded. "I agree. As much as I want to take him in my arms and never let go, I know he needs to move past this in order to live a good life—in order to live a life that isn't based in fear."

Jack head moved almost imperceptibly in his agreement, his sober eyes taking on a far-away look as if he was thinking about something that was far away from this room and all the painful memories it held in it.

"Jack, we have to face the possibility that Grace isn't going to wake up," Sam whispered. "After all, we don't know what happened to her or what exactly her body is doing right now. We need to be prepared for every scenario."

"Sam, we've gone through this song and dance too many times to give up now," Jack reminded her. "Just six years ago, we were here with one of our children in critical condition, and you—well, you weren't exactly—"

"She moved her finger!" Sam interrupted excitedly. She pointed at the girl's index finger which slowly moved upward and then lowered itself to the bed.

"Grace?" Jack whispered as he took his daughter's hand into his own. He turned a worried glance back to his wife who looked as worried and nervous as he felt.

"Grace, angel," Sam said as she leaned forward. "We're here. Can you hear us?"

"Mmmm?"

The moan coming from Grace's lips could barely be heard, but it had Jack jumping out of his chair and heading toward the infirmary. "She moved!" He called. "Doc, she moved!"

A short, mousy man with thinning brown hair combed to the side hurried into the room with the tails of his lab coat flying behind him. "Miss O'Neill, can you hear me?" He greeted as he flashed a small penlight into Grace's eye to check her pupils.

Another moan met their ears, and the doctor turned to Sam and Jack with cautious enthusiasm. "This is a good sign," he said as he motioned for a gaggle of nurses and specialists to enter the room. "But we'll need you to go while we finish our examination."

Jack nodded as he prepared to push his wife's wheelchair out into the corridor.

"We've prepared a bed for you, General Carter," he said as he turned to Sam. "Perhaps now would be a good time for you to rest and get your own strength back."

Sam's previous exhaustion had evaporated with the signs of Grace's consciousness. "I don't think I could sleep now even if I wanted to," she said with a vehement shake of her head. "Not until I know for certain that my daughter is on her way to recovery."

"General, it could be several hours or even days before she becomes fully conscious—if that is indeed what we're witnessing." The doctor grew more serious as he walked them out to the corridor. "I must warn you that some comatose patients do many things while comatose beside lay still. It is possible that this is just an evidence that she is in a different type of coma than we had first anticipated."

"But she moaned in answer to two questions, Doctor," Sam said as she shook her head. "That's not in any way unconscious."

"So we think," he corrected. "We still know so little about the human body—and especially what is happening in her body—that we can't be entirely sure about anything." They came to the main infirmary entrance and the doctor pointed to a bed. "That is your bed, General. I'll be sure to inform you of the results of our examination or if there's any additional change in your daughter's condition."

Sam sighed as he walked away and another set of nurses came to help her into the bed. "She's waking up, Jack," she said as she turned back to look at her husband. "I can feel it."

Jack's eyes held a small shadow of doubt as if he wasn't as sure as she was. "I certainly hope so, Sam."


	60. Chapter 60

Jacob sat in absolute stillness at the table beside Teal'c. He stared at his untouched tuna sandwich, chocolate milk, grapes, and green jello as if they were transparent and standing in his way of seeing something else.

"Do you have a matter of great importance on your mind, Jacob O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.

Jacob's blank expression began to break as his lip began to quiver and his eyes began to tear up. The little boy took his napkin and wiped at his nose as he sniffled and tried to appear more grown-up than his mere five years.

Teal'c hesitated for a moment. Since he'd missed so much of his son's life, he wasn't entirely sure how to comfort this small boy. Besides, Jaffa of any age didn't usually break down and cry. Usually they fought to the death until the matter was resolved.

Teal'c inhaled before he stood, walked over to the chair between him and Jacob, and sat back down.

"On Chulak," he began slowly. "It is customary to fast in honor of a great warrior who has made a great sacrifice in behalf of his brothers and sisters." He nodded toward his young friend with great solemnity. "I will begin such a fast in honor of Grace O'Neill's courage in the face of such grave adversity."

Jacob looked up at the Jaffa with tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. His clear misery at the thought of losing his sister after all that he had witnessed and endured was enough to tug at the heart strings of the alien.

Teal'c couldn't help but clear his throat in an attempt to refrain from losing his voice in the emotion that was welling up inside him at these young children's harrowing experience. "Grace O'Neill would do anything to protect her family," he said softly. "It is a trait she learned from your parents and which I believe she hoped to teach you."

Jacob's sobs burst out in earnest, and he jumped off of his chair and into the Jaffa's arms. He wrapped his arms around Teal'c's neck and cried. "It was so scary," Jacob hiccupped. "There were bad guys everywhere. And I hurt them. I didn't mean to, but I hurt them. And I couldn't stop it."

Teal'c wrapped his arms around the little boy's body and held him tightly. "You are safe now, young Jacob O'Neill."

* * *

It was funny the things that Jack thought about when he was desperately trying to avoid thinking about something in particular. At the moment, as he and his wife waited for Grace to awaken, he was thinking about coffee—and how terrible the coffee in the Mountain had become since his last visit.

"I should really dump this out before I give it to Sam," Jack said as he walked into the infirmary.

"Yes, sir?" One of the orderlies asked as she appeared from almost out of nowhere at his side.

Jack sighed softly as he turned to her. "Probably not a good idea for my convalescing wife to have coffee, right?"

The orderly nodded. "Right, sir."

"Especially bad coffee like this," he said as he handed the Styrofoam cup to her. "Thanks for making the decision for me, Lieutenant."

He walked toward his daughter's room only to find his wife in the same position where she had been for the last several hours.

"Sam, you can't just sit there. It's like that saying about the watched pot never boiling—and yes, it's a cliché, but it happens to be true in this instance," he rambled as he walked from the doorway to the seat beside her. "You need your rest."

Sam swallowed as she turned bloodshot eyes to her husband. "I know I need rest," she admitted. "But every time I close my eyes I just see—I just see everything I don't want to see right now. If that makes any sense."

Jack put his arm around her carefully so as not to jostle her injured shoulder. "It does, actually. I was thinking about coffee for the same reason."

"Coffee?" She asked in surprise.

"I got a cup from the mess hall, and it was terrible, so I thought I'd spare you the trouble," he said dismissively.

She nodded. "And under normal circumstances, bad coffee wouldn't even be on your radar," she said as if completing his thought. "It's Daniel that usually freaks the new interns out with ideas that their cup of coffee might have some microscopic alien life form in it or that the coffee on the base is actually made from the same ingredients as the mud wrap at the spa on P3X-584."

Jack snorted absently . "You have to admit, though, that one was funny—especially when Lieutenant Bunderson from the kitchen appeared during a drill with a coffee ground facial."

Sam raised an eyebrow as if to remind her husband that this was not the right time to joke, and he instantly sobered.

"Sam, I know it looks like I'm not dealing with this—that I'm trying to avoid what's going on, but the truth of the matter is that I'm relieved that I have you around to help me through it. If you were still in DC, I think I'd be going crazy about now," he said as he tried to elicit a small smile from her.

"I know," Sam admitted somewhat reluctantly. "And I know that I'm being particularly sensitive about the whole thing because I'm tired and my eyelids are practically closing of their own accord while my daughter's lying here in a coma."

"She's not in a coma," Jack interjected. "Remember? She's in something like a coma."

"That distinction isn't exactly helping things right now," Sam grumbled.

Jack sighed softly. "Why don't you go see if Jake wants you to read a story with him, okay? I think he could use some quality mommy time. I'll stay here, okay?"

Sam hesitated for a moment before she nodded. "Sounds like a good plan."

She went to push herself in her wheelchair when Jack put a hand on her uninjured shoulder. "On second thought, why don't I page Teal'c and have him come pick you up?"

Sam nodded again as she reached for her daughter's hand with her own uninjured hand. "I'll wait here until you get back."

Jack bent down and kissed the top of her head before he walked out of the room.

* * *

Sam watched her husband walk out of the room before she turned her attention back to her unresponsive daughter. "Your father is really struggling with this," she whispered. "You'd never know if by looking at him, but he's trying to find every excuse in the book not to have to deal with this. He's even complaining about coffee—well, that's not as uncommon as it sounds. But the odd thing is that he's taking the time to even think about the taste of his coffee. Normally, he would just drink it and forget about it. But not today." Sam swallowed. "No, today, he's thinking about coffee because he doesn't want to think about you—and how you're just lying here."

Sam felt the tears well up in her eyes. "Me, on the other hand, I can't stop thinking about you and your brother." Her throat tightened up, and she felt her emotion affect her ability to speak clearly. "You must have been so scared. Both of you trying to use your gifts to escape but never knowing if you would be able to."

Sam closed her eyes in an effort to eradicate the images that were running through her brain at almost lightning speeds, but that only served to make it worse. She swallowed and attempted to regain her composure. "Come on, Grace, you're a fighter. You always have been. Don't give up fighting now. Come back to us, okay? Come back and spend the rest of your life doing whatever it is that teenagers do, okay? We just want you back."

A moan not unlike the one she'd heard earlier came from her daughter's lips.

"Grace?" Sam asked as she leaned forward in her chair.

"Mom, I don't want to go to school today. Can't I just stay home? I'll even go to work with you—just sit in the back and listen to a lecture about astrophysics, okay? Just don't make me get up right now," Grace groaned as she rolled over and shoved her head under a pillow.

Sam's jaw dropped in shock before she began shoving her daughter awake with one hand. "Grace O'Neill, wake up! That's an order, do you hear?" She shouted. "Wake up!"

Within a moment, the teen was sitting up in bed and giving her mother an evil glare. "I just want a few more minutes of sleep, and you give me an order?"

Grace rolled her eyes for a moment before she took in the sight of the concrete walls of the SGC infirmary and her mother's arm in a sling. "What's going on?" She asked with a deeply worried brow line. "How exactly did I get here—and why did you bring me here?"

Sam released a sigh of relief. Her daughter was awake enough to ask questions. In her opinion, the girl could ask as many questions as she wanted. Questions, she could answer. All that mattered was that her little girl was the one who was asking them.


End file.
